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wincore · 2 years

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deck the halls (with spiderwebs) | ldh

pairing: spiderman!haechan x fem!reader

synopsis: donghyuck’s short term goal is to finish his bachelor’s degree even if it’s with a 20% attendance, and his long term goal is to be the smoothest, coolest spiderman ever. the latter, however, doesn’t really work out when he’s crashed into a wall thrice in public because of you.

genre: spiderman!au, bff2l, action (??), comedy, fluff

warning(s): injuries (so many), sexual innuendos, language, j*ke gyl*enh*al slander

words: 10.2k

song rec: sunflower by post malone, swae lee

notes: ok so. pls read this like a movie in your head bc i was thinking of movies instead of actual literature writing this. also thank you miss cat, pun queen and professional title maker, for donating this title to me bc i could never come up with something so good 😩

There’s a two hundred-foot-tall stone gargoyle in front of Donghyuck’s university. Donghyuck has no idea why there’s a two-hundred-foot-tall stone gargoyle in front of his university.

It stands proud, eyes trained on the horizon, looking way too lively for marble. In fact, the most disturbing part is probably that the thing is alive. Its face is a little less scary than the actual gargoyle statues at monuments, owing to the rather kind, round shape of its eyes. A stone mustache follows under its nostrils, falling into place (it’s a sculpture) in a way that makes it seem refined. God, why is Donghyuck evaluating a behemoth stone figure obstructing pedestrian traffic? He should get up there and convince it to leave.

“What the fuck is that?” Renjun says from beside him.

“A two-hundred-foot-tall stone gargoyle,” answers Mark Lee, ever so helpful.

“Well, why is it here?” Renjun hisses.

“Uh.” Like Donghyuck mentioned, Mark Lee is ever so helpful with his answers.

You know who’s actually helpful? That’s right—Professor Kim for not kicking Donghyuck out of his classes for the last few weeks. Granted he was only an average of five minutes late and less truck-accident-core than before. The second most helpful person in Donghyuck’s life is obviously Spiderman. If it wasn’t obvious, that’s because he forgot to mention he’s Spiderman.

“When will we get a peaceful walk home?” Jaemin rolls his eyes. “It’s some bullshit every week.”

“It’s not like you have to do anything,” Jeno counters. “Spiderman comes and gets rid of them.”

That’s his cue, and leaving might arouse suspicion but not in this case. Donghyuck knows these guys. They wouldn’t care about finding Spiderman’s identity unless they were rewarded with pizza coupons or chocolate chip cookies.

“I’m gonna go ahead…” Donghyuck flashes them a pair of finger guns.

“Oh no,” Renjun huffs in annoyance. “You are an asshole but you have to stop leaving us during times of crisis.”

“Ugh. I don’t care about the gargoyle, I care about not getting kicked out of ochem. Spiderman will handle it anyway, right?”

That’s partially true. He does not want to get kicked out of class again but he also doesn’t want an animated gargoyle the size of a Boeing to destroy his campus. He’s going to make this quick. Evading this bunch of idiots isn’t that hard, honestly.

Just as Donghyuck is about to fasten his pace, he bumps into another unwanted face in front of the engineering hall.

“Oh, hey, (name).” His voice cracks immediately.

Donghyuck clears his throat. He’s not trying to impress his best friend since third grade, certainly, but putting on a smoother, deeper, and sexier voice can’t hurt. He needs a rep boost as just Lee Donghyuck. “Hey, (name). Didn’t see you there.”

You cross your arms.

“You are way too relaxed for someone failing ochem,” you chide.

“I’m not failing ochem,” he defends quickly. “I know what aminoethanoic acid is.”

Why would he say that? He's far from smooth now.

“What does glycine have anything to do with that?” You raise an eyebrow. “Weirdo.”

“No… particular reason. God, I’m not arguing with my rich, hot, nerd best friend who tries to act better than everyone else. Resolve your daddy issues first.”

Donghyuck stomps his foot in impatience before attempting to bypass you and your stupidly gorgeous face. (He didn’t say that out loud and he never will.)

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” You grin. “You think I’m hot?”

“That’s why you stopped me?”

“Oh, uh. Right. I need help. You noticed the huge gargoyle outside campus?”

“Huge is an understatement. Either that or you’re really bad at using guesstimating words.”

“Shut up.” Your voice lowers, and Donghyuck hates to admit this, but the sudden spark of concern in your voice tugs at his heart in the most maddening way possible.

There’s a long pause.

“Well?”

You mumble out an answer, “That…uh… that may have been my fault.”

“Oh?” Donghyuck straightens. “Is that so?”

“Don’t get cocky.”

“I was born better than everyone else, can’t help it.”

He was better than everyone else till a spider bit him. Now he has to find cats and fight some ridiculous fish monster at 3 a.m (the fish monster was a one-time thing but they get increasingly unbelievable each time) and deal with dark circles as massive as a continent. He thinks he'd make a far better supervillain. Having to be all goody-two-shoes and friendly in public has given him a blow to his dignity.

But whoever said being a superhero is not fun and games was also a big, fat liar. You get to do sick backflips and gain public praise, you get free churros from old Dominican ladies you happen to help cross the road, and most importantly, you can read all the horrible thirst tweets because everyone has a thing for Spiderman’s voice now. (Donghyuck would wash his brain with bleach to erase those memories.) No, but, really, he might be pretty popular as Lee Donghyuck, but there’s a certain freedom that crimson mask grants him—that he can do anything, and people will still love him.

And yet, there’s only one person he looks to for love.

“Look, you know how… aliens and wizards and cyborgs and stuff are totally normal, right? It’s not like I’m putting anyone in mortal danger. Right?” You try to gather your words.

“Uh-huh.”

“I… accidentally… sent a distress signal from one of the pile-of-rocks-looking aliens that visited dad for business last week.”

Donghyuck blinks. “And how… did you send this distress signal?”

“In my defense, it’s really not a thing someone with common sense would suspect.”

“Go on.” A smile is tugging at Donghyuck’s lips, watching you shift your weight from foot to foot. This better be embarrassing enough to tease you till next Halloween.

“I didn’t know singing the lyrics to ‘Last Christmas’ would activate the stupid ring I stole from the aliens, Jesus.”

You hug yourself, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Would you stop being cute? That face of yours has made him swing straight at a building more than once. They even wrote an article on that! It was titled “The baby spider has yet to grasp his powers—find out why!” and they didn’t even get the reason right; pinning it on some crappy conspiracy theory about how glass makes Spiderman weaker. (If only they knew a glance from you is what brings him to his knees.)

“The stupid thing started beeping like crazy and I had to run out of the shower half-naked—don’t picture that, pervert.”

“That’s a terrible accusation, also your terrible singing activated some terrible weird alien device and you never mentioned it to anyone?”

“It’s not terrible, and no! How was I supposed to explain the stealing part to my dad? He’s an intergalactic businessman!”

“It is terrible, it probably sounded like an alien creature wailing for help and hence—activating your little device.”

“Enough with that already! Help me out now.” You huff.

Donghyuck sighs, rolling his eyes at your determined face. Just how capable do you think he is? Sure, he’s your reliable, handsome, popular best friend but it’s not like you know he can shoot webs at stuff and swing around New York City whenever he wants. He’s not letting you shoulder the burden of a secret. (It’s also because you have a loud mouth.)

“And you think I can help because…?”

“You’re Spiderman!”

Donghyuck blinks. What?

“What did you say?”

“You’re Spiderman. What, did you think you could keep a secret from me?”

Play dumb, he thinks.

“Who’s Spiderman?”

Not that dumb.

You give him a look, specifically the look that spells ‘Hey, Lee Donghyuck, you’re an idiot and I can see into your soul’. Or maybe, that’s his inner voice talking. Regardless, he’s a little unsure how to respond. Why is it always you ruining his smooth operations?

He breathes out. “No, wait. You don’t understand.”

Donghyuck quickly pulls you into a corner, leaving barely any space between the two of you. He would be uncomfortable like this on any given day, all red in the face and palpitating heart. This is kind of an emergency and though Donghyuck’s job description is handling emergencies, he’s not sure how to react.

“You’re not supposed to say that out loud,” he hisses. “What if someone heard?”

“Oh. Uh… sorry. I didn't think that through.” You flash him an apologetic smile. “Are you actually weak to glass, by the way?”

“No, I’m not. Jesus, has everyone read that theory?”

“Most people in the fanclub.”

“Wait, what?” A surprised chuckle leaves Donghyuck. “Fanclub? You’re in my fanclub?”

“No… not exactly. I heard… from my friends… who are in the fanclub.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And so are you, if your secret is so easy to figure out.”

“I’m only bad at lying to you.”

“Ugh, whatever,” you groan, throwing your head back. “Can’t argue with you. I only joined it to check up on what cool things you were doing every day. I mean, you fought one of the Aquanoids? So cool.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“You know, eight-foot-tall half-fish with the poison spikes.”

“It has a name? And there’s more of them?”

“Ugh, Hyuck, don’t be boring. You get to swing through skyscrapers and bust some cool moves and save people in times of crisis. I wish I had that kinda superpower. To be free.”

You mumble the last part. He’s come to hate that despondent look on you. But Donghyck knows how to cheer you up. He wasn’t voted class clown from grade six through ten for nothing.

“Wanna go swinging?” He asks.

“What?”

“Through the buildings. Your eyes lit up when you said that. Oh, look, they’re lighting up again. Did you emotionally manipulate me into making this offer?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! You’re the best, Hyuck!”

Donghyuck smiles back at you, the tension growing larger inside his ribcage into a sticky spiderweb of emotions. Then he remembers the two-hundred-foot-tall stone gargoyle.

“I should- I should deal with your marble mishap first,” he says.

“Is that what you’re calling it? Ooh, do you have secret mission names for each of them?”

He makes a face, an exasperated hand gesture following.

“Right, got it.”

You walk with Donghyuck side by side, a slight skip to your step.

“So, do you have, like, a secret lair like Batman? Ooh, or a Spidermobile!”

“I don’t even have a driver’s license.”

You laugh, and Donghyuck is grateful for the sound. When the two of you reach the locker room, you still stand outside like a child in front of an ice cream truck. He had no idea you had a thing for superheroes. He might've told you this whole thing earlier.

“Give me some space, creep.” He grabs you by the shoulders to gently push you away, a disapproving look on his face.

“Well, you’re not changing in front of the locker room, are you?”

“No, but it’s so weird having you wait in front like that!”

“Fine, fine.”

You step back until you're pressed to the windowsill and he makes his way inside, quickly closing the door. He's gonna run you through his ‘Do not tell people I'm Spiderman’ manual later in the evening.

Donghyuck has decided to swing out the window of the locker room. It still feels surreal that you know, and he’s not sure if he wants to face you in spandex when you know it’s him. He’s getting a little self-conscious about his butt.

He shakes his head.

“Whatever. This’ll be quick.”

Donghyuck climbs out the window, crawling over the wall to the top of the building. He has a great view of the gargoyle from here, and in fact, this stone creature has the greatest set of abs Donghyuck has ever laid eyes on and possibly, will ever lay eyes on. He shoots a web over to the next building, swinging close enough to sling another web at the gargoyle’s shoulder. Thankfully, this did not activate a defense mechanism involving lasers and chainsaws like he anticipated.

Donghyuck lands gracefully, a move he prides himself on, and perches atop the gargoyle’s shoulder.

“Great abs!” He yells, not sure why he did. “Wait, uh, that’s not the point.”

The creature is still looking over the horizon. He shoots a web at the forehead, hoping it’s not too rude, and lands on its nose.

“Hello?” He waves his hand in front of its eye. “Anyone in there?”

He follows its vision trained on the horizon. It’s not exactly the horizon, he discovers, but a specific building within the campus.

Donghyuck groans. He’s gonna have to get you, isn’t he? After a few seconds of contemplating his misery, he swings back over and pretends that was part of his plan. Luck must truly be on your side today.

Donghyuck can’t lie. Your pout gets the best of him. He would’ve rammed straight into the closed window like a fucking bird if he noticed it too late.

“You totally left me!” You huff.

“I did not.” Donghyuck places a hand over his heart. “Anyway, get on.”

“On what? You? Like a bike?”

“Jeez, stop making it sound dirty.”

“Hyuck!”

He loves the embarrassment in your voice, a grin forcing its way onto his face. You can’t see it, but he gets the feeling you know anyway. How did he not see it coming? That you’d figure it out? Admittedly, it doesn’t feel as awful as he thought it would. A sense of relief washed over him instead. He’s not a terrible liar, but his stomach would always churn trying to keep things from you. Maybe it was because you were always so honest. If you found something interesting, the whole neighborhood would know and if you had a crush, the school would be getting you together with them already. It got on his nerves countless times, but eventually, he found that he loves it’s the way you are.

“You’re choking me, (name),” he says. Your legs are around his waist snug but your arms around his neck are a little too tight.

“Now, who’s being kinky?” You scoff.

“Really not the time, (name). We could fall to our deaths ten storeys below. Just you though. I have lightning-fast reflexes to keep myself alive.”

You groan, your grip on his neck loosening but now your legs tighten. This is going to take a few tries to get right and Donghyuck can only hope you don’t ask for free swing rides around NYC every day.

Just as Donghyuck is about to swing to the gargoyle’s shoulder, it turns its head in a manner so sudden and unnerving, he almost misses—the web landing near his armpit instead. Donghyuck has never thought of death so soon—not because of the gargoyle but because of your iron grip. Seriously, you could be murdering supervillains left and right if you put this strength to use.

A low whine emits from his throat as he struggles to get up to the shoulder with you on but he does get there.

“Dude, it’s looking directly at us,” you say, getting off him as he falls to the stone beneath immediately, breathing heavily.

“I think God’s looking directly at me.”

“Hello? Hello!” You yell.

A sudden whirring sound makes the whole unit shake, your hands naturally grabbing onto his arm. It makes him feel strong in a way a prepubescent boy with a first crush would feel so he pays no heed to the rising bloom of emotions in his chest. It’s cool, it’s cool. He’s Spiderman. He’s been bitten by a radioactive spider, and god, he has really sticky hands. He hopes you don’t try to hold them.

“Greetings.”

An odd smile stretches across the stone structure—odd because it’s freaking cute.

“Can you, uh, go back to space?” Donghyuck yells.

You smack his chest, eliciting an ‘oof’ from him. “Don’t be rude, Spiderboy.”

You turn back to it.

“What is your purpose here?” You yell.

Donghyuck snickers. “What’s with the fake Thor accent?”

“It’s called a British accent, idiot. And it’s so I sound cool and important.”

He rolls his eyes, although he can’t help the smile.

“I am here to collect an Earth innovation sample as per instructions.” The voice isn't as booming as Donghyuck thought it would be. It's quite friendly, in fact, and the voice emanates from a very specific part of the gargoyle's throat.

“Oh, great, what the hell is that?” Donghyuck asks.

“So you’re not here to destroy Earth and devour its remnants?” You pipe up, frowning. “That’s so boring, man.”

“Shush,” Donghyuck pushes your head down. “You’re not even helping keep earth safe.”

“I’m sorry, say that again? I donate to fighting pollution and global warming every month.”

“What’s an Earth innovation sample?” Donghyuck asks. “Is (name)’s stupid robotics project okay?”

“Hey! I worked for three months on that.”

“And all it does is beep and take photos of street cats.”

“You’re telling me that’s not peak innovation?”

“Maybe if it had a snack dispenser.”

The stone gargoyle seems to be observing your conversation and Donghyuck suddenly feels a little awkward under the hippo-sized eyes.

You clear your throat. “Uh, Mr. Gargoyle, sir? What exactly is an innovation sample?”

“Your latest radiofrequency devices, Miss.”

“Oh, so, like, phones!” You answer, bright-faced and stupidly proud of getting that right. Donghyuck presses his lips together before realizing you can’t see him smile so he might as well.

“Oh, so you won’t answer me but her, Stonehenge? Anyway, I have a great solution. Stay here.”

“It’s not like I’m gonna jump o—”

Donghyuck jumps off the shoulder, a sharp laugh following as he swings around the gargoyle’s arm and then from the knee to finally land in front of a familiar group. If that doesn’t impress someone, they have to be the most boring person in the universe (or multiverse, who knows?)

“Oh my God, it’s Spiderman!” Mark exclaims, lighting up.

“Don’t make that face, Mark, you’re embarrassing us in front of Spiderman,” Chenle quips.

Donghyuck wonders how disappointed the older boy would be if he learned about Spiderman’s identity. Donghyuck has the urge to tell him just to scandalize him.

“Hey, guys,” Donghyuck greets, “Do you mind if I borrowed your phone? Permanently borrowed, that is.”

“Are you mugging us?” Jaemin asks.

“Well… the two hundred foot stone gargoyle is here to collect data and any phone or computer will do. I mean, I could swing by the labs and get one of those computers that’ve been there since the sixties but I’d feel bad scamming the big guy.”

Donghyuck knows he’s a piece of shit for scamming his friends instead, but he’s serving a higher purpose.

“Oh, well, if it’s really necessary,” Mark responds, shuffling through his bag. Oh, for the love of God, does he have to be the nicest person on earth? Maybe he should’ve been the superhero instead. Or at least his sidekick, because Donghyuck is getting really tired of handling things solo. (Huh, ‘Spiderman and Buggy’ sounds pretty great, he thinks.)

“No, not yours, Android boy,” Donghyuck says, shaking his head. “Give me that.”

He points towards Jaemin’s phone in his hand. Finally. Goodbye to Jaemin’s stupid alarm that wakes up everyone in the whole building but him. (This is a higher purpose, okay? He worships his sleep time.)

“Uh, okay.”

Donghyuck is so glad Jaemin is too tired in the morning to argue. He knows the guy would squabble to death over the smallest things, Spiderman or not.

“Thanks, guys,” he says, the grin evident in his voice before swinging back.

“Wow. Spiderman.” Mark whispers before getting several elbows from the guys.

Back at the gargoyle’s shoulder, you seem to be engaged in conversation with the thing—Donghyuck isn’t really surprised. After the day he met you and talked your ear off, he learned what it meant to really talk someone’s ear off. And Donghyuck thought he was annoying.

“Here!” Donghyuck yells, waving the phone around.

“We got it!” You tell the gargoyle, smiling brightly.

You’re kind of cute, Donghyuck thinks. You’re a little too cute.

The whirring starts again, the stone structure shaking and Donghyuck is perfectly fine, owing to his sticky feet but that’s when he notices you falling off, a scream dying in your throat.

He grabs onto your wrist just as you’re about to lose footing and fall backwards to your death.

“Pull me up!” You scream.

“Say please!”

“Fuck you!”

“Do it yourself,” he mutters, pulling you close.

“You- I- You’re- You’re so insufferable, Lee Donghyuck!” You breathe heavily, face steaming from chagrin.

He laughs, the sound resonating in the area and you look like you’re about to pounce on him and beat the shit out of him. The unbeatable Spiderman has only you to fear, after all.

You notice the little door at the neck of the creature, skipping over and peering in.

“Ooh, it’s really dark in here.”

“Just drop the phone, (name).”

“Ugh, fine. Wait, is this Jaemin’s phone?”

“No.”

This ends your whole stone gargoyle ordeal and while Donghyuck’s glad it’s over, he doesn’t enjoy your parting from holding onto him. It’s a weird feeling, like a spider’s woven a web all across his heart and decided to squeeze it into overdrive. Adrenaline doesn't feel this way. No freaky radioactive spider hormone feels this way.

“See you in ochem,” you whisper, tiptoeing as he sits on the window ledge.

The action, however, catches him off guard and he stumbles backward, falling straight into garbage cans outside the building with a loud, embarrassing cacophony accompanying.

“Are you okay?” You yell, heavily concerned.

Donghyuck can only gesture a thumbs up while he tries to pull his soul back into his body.

This is bad. This is very bad. Lee Donghyuck has caught feelings in his spiderweb.

Lee Donghyuck starts classes the next day with two bandaids on his face and a bandaged arm. You think the swelling on his cheek isn’t that bad—the puffiness is honestly making him look cute for once.

This was before you accidentally flew your drone into his face.

“You’re lucky I didn't get stitches,” he grumbles, holding an ice pack to his forehead, where yet another bandaid has been added.

“I’m so sorry, Hyuck, I got so excited to see you I pressed the controller too hard. Do you want me to hold that for you?”

“Hold the weight of my broken heart. Also my bags and the ice pack, yeah, thanks.”

“Drama queen,” you tease.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me all the way back.”

You ignore his statement. Your curiosity is tugging at the corner of every thought you have, and you add a skip to your steps, smiling.

“Hey, do you lay eggs?”

“What? No! I’m a dude.”

“Do you spit venom?”

“No.”

“Do you never let me hold your hand because your palms are sticky?”

“...No.”

You give him a look and he groans, before yelping at the pain.

“Sometimes they get sticky when I don’t want them to. It’s mostly under control. Besides, why would I wanna hold your sweaty hands?”

You roll your eyes.

“You have your key?” You ask as your apartment comes into view.

“In my bag. Wait, no. My pockets? Oh no. I left it on the roof!”

The energy seems to drain from his face as his eyes roll up in exasperation. He looks back at you with a pointed look. “I’m very responsible—this was all Mark’s fault.”

“What did he do?” You furrow your brows.

“I don’t know, it’s always his fault.”

You shake your head. “I have my key, let’s go. Where would you be without me, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Suffering fewer injuries.”

“Fine.”

Somehow, you managed to get him to his room without furthering his injuries—despite how accident-prone you are. Hyuck would call it a miracle but his mouth probably needs a nurse checkup too. He says a nap cures everything and you’d call bullshit but he does miraculously heal after a nap. It all makes sense now.

You have one evening class and you are so going to grill some answers out of Hyuck after that. Only because you think superheroes are cool. It’s just that Spiderman is the coolest. (You had the thought before you learned it was your lame best friend.) And you’re mixing up some of your feelings because surely, your pulse shouldn’t be rising when you think of him. You gulp.

You’re not in love with Spiderman. You’re not in love with Lee Donghyuck. You’re not in love with your best friend. In eighth grade, you had deemed it scientifically impossible to be attracted to him.

However, however, the loudest your heart has ever beaten in your life was caused by just holding onto him. You’re not afraid of heights—you’ve gone bungee jumping before—so even if you blame it on the adrenaline, the doubt will always eat at your mind.

You jog all the way to class, a bit too in your feelings to notice your surroundings. It’s a short walk anyway.

“(name)!” Jaemin yells from across the street, a big grin accompanying. “Want me to walk with you?”

“Sure!” You smile back. Walking with you will only delay him by ten minutes and it’s not like Jaemin cares about getting to class on time anymore. He’s the only guy that hasn’t cared about class timings even in freshman year—well, him and Hyuck—and you’ve got to say, he does emanate a very relaxing aura.

What if that’s some superhero power too? You think before shaking your head. It would be convenient if Jaemin was going to sit the villain down for tea and give them therapy.

“You’re not gonna believe what happened yesterday,” he says.

“The gargoyle?”

“Yup, he took my phone! Why didn’t I complain earlier?” He furrows his brow, hard at thought.

You laugh, about to respond when a loud crash, a grunt, and an ‘oof’ follow one after the other on the opposite side of the street.

“Is that… Spiderman?” Jaemin blinks.

“Huh?” Your eyes follow to where he’s focused and an incredulous laugh bubbles up to your throat as you try to hold it in.

Spiderman is lying with his back flat on the pavement, and you’re sure Hyuck needs a checkup at the hospital for sure this time. He doesn’t look like he’s in mortal danger, just horribly exhausted after the accumulation of injuries. You run over, Jaemin following with long strides.

“I’m not following you guys, you have a stalker,” Spiderman informs with a finger raised, voice painfully raspy and bordering on a whine. You’re not sure what height he fell from but his back is definitely not okay.

“Okay, Spiderman,” Jaemin says, raising an eyebrow.

“Not you, twerp,” he snaps, groaning as he gets up and you grab onto his arm to help him stand.

“He’s in a bad mood,” you tell Jaemin, apologetic but not sure why. You’re not Spiderman’s mom.

“Also, I need help with my late assignments,” Donghyuck whispers to you.

“I’m sorry, what?” You whisper through your teeth. “You’re making me miss class for this?”

“There really is someone following you!” He whisper-yells.

“Are you both gonna keep aggressively whispering to each other?” Jaemin asks. “(name), I didn’t know you were so close to Spiderman.”

“I’m- uh- We became friends a few days ago,” you explain.

“Friends is hardly the word,” Spiderman interrupts, “More like a lucky fan.”

You give him a disgruntled look.

“Oh, that’s great for you, (name)!” Jaemin breaks into a teasing smile. “You’re always—”

“Aah, let’s go, Spiderman! I feel an ominous presence. My spidey senses are tingling.”

Spiderman stares directly at you and you can’t see his face, but you think his lips are curling into a smile just about now.

“Are you gonna swing me back?” You ask, hope twinkling in your eyes, and Jaemin chuckles beside you.

“No, my bac—you know what, sure.” He shrugs. You’re not sure what made him agree so fast but you’re overjoyed, a little bounce on your feet following your ‘yay!’

“You’re so cute, (name),” Jaemin says, laughing, and you flash him a peace sign, sticking out your tongue. You don’t exactly think you’re cute. You just get excited easily. (“Like a dog,” Donghyuck said once before getting whacked in the head.)

Jaemin starts, “You know, we should—”

“Alright! It’s time to leave. Have fun at class, dude,” Donghyuck says, placing an arm around your waist and flashing Jaemin a peace sign, copying yours.

“That’s so rude—”

You’re swung up alongside your best friend, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms around his neck so he can let go of you and focus on swinging.

“(name). (name). A little loose on the neck—gah! Your hand is on my nose! Why are you so bad at this?”

“I’m trying!”

“I can’t see! You’re covering my eyes now, holy shit.”

Before the two of you can crash through a skyscraper and get tens of thousands of glass cuts, Donghyuck lands safely on the roof of one of the shorter buildings beside. He wobbles forward, tripping and falling with you on him. He pulls off his mask, breathing heavily. The band-aid across his cheeks is coming off, the bright red scratch standing out.

“God, you’re bad at this,” you breathe out.

“Excuse me?! You’re the one getting all handsy over me.”

“You- You insufferable sack of—”

“You cannot resist me, can you?” He grins, dog-tired and yet with still enough nerve.

“I’m resisting a punch right now.”

“You can’t hurt me, I’m Spiderma—ow! Okay, you made your point.”

Your heart is still beating, the pulsing loud in your ears. You’re not sure how long adrenaline stays. All these years and you don’t know when your heart gave up trying to predict him. Behind intelligent eyes and a soft frame of face, you have no idea what he’s about to say or do next. Maybe that’s what makes him so fun. Maybe your heart was always beating this fast around him and you couldn’t hear it over the sound of his voice, warm like liquid sunlight and sweet as honey. You should’ve recognized it behind the mask right away.

“I don’t- I don’t get to chill on a roof much,” he says, “Contrary to popular belief.”

“So, this is nice?” You smile.

“I like swinging better.”

You sit up grinning. “Let’s go!”

“Let an injured man rest a little.”

So, when you do get home, it’s past midnight. Hyuck had to make a few stops between to catch a cat burglar along with a literal cat, but on the whole, you think you’ll never feel the wind on your face like that again. You’re also touched that Lee Donghyuck agreed to swing you around New York after all that he goes through.

He’s just a boy, you think. Why does the city rest so comfortably on his shoulders?

“You know, this is the first time I’ve climbed in through my own window,” you tell him as he steps into your room and closes the window behind him. “Also, it’s so fucking cold. Is your suit heated?”

“Stark product,” he answers proudly, taking off his mask to shoot you a boyish grin.

You smile back at him.

“Oh, shoot, homework,” Donghyuck realizes out loud, eyes widening as he scuffles around.

“Oh, shoot, Jaemin,” you remember. “You should apologize to him.”

“What, now? I will not tarnish Spiderman’s reputation by breaking and entering just to apologize.”

“It sounds like something he’d do.”

“Shit, you’re right. But I’m not apologizing to him—it’s like middle school again.”

He huffs, crossing his arm.

“What happened in middle school? Oh, was it when Lana dumped your sorry ass for Jaemin?”

“No- Yes- but- gah, why do you remember that?”

“Ooh, are you jealous of Jaemin walking me to class?”

“No, that’s stupid.”

“You’re too busy to walk me home, anyway,” you tease.

He chuckles, pressing his tongue against his cheek, at a loss for words.

Right then, shuffling outside your room puts the two of you on alert. Donghyuck is still in the suit and both of you struggle to get it off as quickly as possible before Jaemin or any of your friends discover Hyuck’s secret and it gets messy.

“Woah, when did you get abs?”

“I was born sexy, why are you asking me now?” He responds. “Pass me a shirt.”

Before you can reach for any of your T-shirts, the door opens with a loud creak and Jaemin stares blankly at you, mouth open but no words come out. That’s when you realize what it looks like—Donghyuck is in his boxers in your room, you’re holding the suit bunched up and the both of you are up in each other’s personal space.

“The walls are thin,” Jaemin says, “I’ll put on some earphones. You guys better be practicing safe sex.”

“It’s not like that!” You and Donghyuck yell at the same time.

“Then why did you strip Donghyuck in your room, (name)? Aren’t you cold, Hyuck? It’s late December.”

“He was trying on some clothes we ordered,” you answer quickly.

“Yeah, I’m playing Santa for some schoolkids downtown,” Donghyuck follows along.

“Isn’t that Spiderman though?” Jaemin points at the suit in your hands.

“I’m playing… Spiderman Santa…” Donghyuck explains.

Jaemin looks impressed and you’re so glad he doesn’t ask further.

“You know, you had me scared there for a moment. I thought your obsession finally went too far and you convinced Hyuck to dress up as Spiderman for some kinky shit.”

Your ears burn hot. “That’s- I would never- what- why would you say that?”

“You have a pathetic crush.”

“I do not.”

“She’s totally crushing on Spiderman,” Jaemin informs, turning to Donghyuck. “Like, you don’t even know who he is. What if he’s like a thirty-year-old man? What if he’s Jake Gyllenhaal?”

“That’s not possible because Spiderman is a good guy,” you defend, crossing your arms.

“Ugh, (name), are you going to talk about how hot Spiderman is again or…?” Jaemin throws his head back. “Because he is not in my good books this week. First, he left me hanging in the middle of the street. And yesterday, he took my freaking iPhone and sent it to space! Oh, by the way, could you buy me a new one to cover the damage? I’ll forgive him then.”

“I’m not his PR manager,” you respond, exasperated, desperately avoiding Hyuck’s gaze from beside you.

“But you are his most loyal fangirl. That counts for something.”

“I’m not a Spiderman fangirl! Shut up.”

“By the way, I brought some medicine for Hyuck. I was going to tell you to buy it before Spiderman cut me off mid-sentence—you know, he’s a real asshole. Kind of like Donghyuck but his anonymity pisses me off.”

“Maybe he was in a bad mood and misunderstood,” Donghyuck mumbles.

“I know, I know.” Jaemin waves his hand around. “Guy has it rough. The peace of an entire city shouldn’t be one person’s burden. You think he has a life outside being a superhero? It must be sucky.”

“It’s not that sucky,” Hyuck counters, “Probably. I mean he gets to swing through buildings and stuff.”

Jaemin emits an exaggeratedly long groan. “So tiring.”

Donghyuck chuckles, Jaemin joining in.

“Wow, thinking about being Spiderman tires me out,” Jaemin says, shaking his head. “Anyway, good night, guys. Remember to attend Karina’s Christmas party this weekend, and bring some alcohol because she never has enough. Also, if you guys decide to fuck—”

“That will never happen,” you say.

“Right,” Jaemin responds, a cheeky spark in his eyes. “I’ll sleep with earbuds on anyway.”

Jaemin turns around and leaves, not even closing the door. It’s like he’s a mother at the tender age of twenty-one because he sure acts like one. Donghyuck closes the door himself, turning around to give you his winning smile—the nerve in this boy is unmatched. He walks closer and your pulse spikes instantly.

“So, were you fangirling about me before you knew I was Spiderman or—”

“Shut up, Donghyuck,” you say, pressing both your hands to his mouth. Evidently, it does not help change his demeanor because he still gazes at you with the cockiest expression.

“Mmmpf- mmmh mmpsph?”

“Ew, did you just lick my palm like a dog? Your saliva isn’t gonna poison me, right?”

“No, stupid.”

You roll your eyes. “What were you saying?”

“How did you figure out I’m Spiderman?”

“You mean you didn’t think anyone could connect your mysterious disappearances with Spiderman’s mysterious appearances? Especially your best friend?”

“Yup, definitely thought I could run with it.”

“I mean, come on, you’ve responded to Spiderman once or twice. Also, you come in through the window sometimes, it’s really weird. And Jaemin said you’ve been leaking reds onto his whites whenever you do laundry.”

He sighs, throwing his head back.

“You can’t tell this to anyone, alright?” He says, returning his gaze to you. “Remember what I said about thinking before opening your mouth?”

“I’m not a kid anymore, Hyuck,” you mumble, leaning back and crossing your arms. “Of course I think before opening my mouth. Sometimes.”

He shakes his head. “This is why I’m smarter and have superhero powers.”

“I bet you really wanted to tell everyone.”

There’s a pause, and a smile fights its way onto his face.

“So bad,” he answers, clenching his fist. Your smile grows.

“You have a cool job, dude.”

“But I don’t get paid. All I get is back pain.”

You laugh. Funny, sweet Lee Donghyuck. Always everyone's favorite and there's good reason to be. But you never saw him beyond your best friend. This whole unmasking thing was easy for you but now you're in a whole new dilemma of your own. You'd suspected it for a while. Were you already falling for him then?

Your eyes travel down and back up to his eyes. You clear your throat. “You should wear some clothes.”

“Why? You’re clearly enjoying this.”

Your face heats up even more. It’s not December anymore if the temperature is like this. You reach for your T-shirt and throw it at him, his laughter flooding your room with sunlight.

You go through your missed notifications while he changes and you’re a little surprised to see the number of tags you have on Instagram. Apparently, someone caught footage of you on your little outing with NYC’s number one hero.

Donghyuck plops down on your bed, faceplanting into your pillow. “Ugh, do I have to turn in my assignments tomorrow? I’m late anyway, might as well take a whole week.”

“Christmas break starts the day after tomorrow. That means you’ll have to turn them in tomorrow.”

You get a muffled cry in response.

The video is just you holding onto Donghyuck for dear life alongside the gargoyle one from yesterday. It’s no big deal. You’ve been in news articles since you were six years old, owing to your dad’s ambitious business ventures. Ever since the first alien encounter twelve years ago, Earth has slowly been building up cordial intergalactic relations thanks to your very own father. That man has probably spent more time with aliens than he has with you. At the very least, you’ve got considerable pocket change. The tangled webs people weave for themselves are complex and hidden—sometimes you wouldn’t understand the people around you.

You sit down beside Donghyuck and he turns his head, looking up at you. You lie down directly onto him and he grunts, complaining about how heavy you are. Eventually, the two of you fit into the bed just fine.

The boy beside you made it so simple. You don’t have to understand complexities. You can just take them in and share your own till you’re all tangled up with other people. That’s how the world works—through tangles and knots and webs that make a pattern of cooperation. For the first time, you knew you had a little place to fit in.

You want to hold his hand all of a sudden. They used to be very warm. You’re sure that hasn’t changed.

“Oh? Look, they wrote an article about the two of us,” you tell Donghyuck, tapping on the news notification that popped up.

“If they’re being mean, let me know. I could really do with some new insults for you.”

“Hush,” you crib. “Spiderman involved with tech giant Nacorp CEO’s daughter…? They don’t even say my name anywhere!”

A small chuckle leaves you before you can read the next sentence aloud.

“The relationship is purely speculative at this stage but netizens suspect there may be monetary factors involved—what the fuck, do they think I’m your sugar mommy?”

Donghyuck is beside himself with laughter, snorts supplementing the silences in between. You can’t help but join in, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Whore,” you accuse, when you finally calm down.

Your foreheads are nearly touching and you’re aware friends aren’t supposed to stay at this proximity. Friends aren’t supposed to feel heartache looking at each other. Friends aren’t supposed to lean in.

A sudden rattling outside your window makes you jump away from each other.

“Is that a rat?” He asks, making a face.

The two of you get up to look outside. There’s nothing—just snow and two Italian men yelling on the floor below. But Donghyuck is on high alert, eyes scanning the perimeter and shoulders stiff.

“Something’s coming.”

You don’t like the sound of that.

Suddenly, he pulls you close and opens the window. A blast of air makes you cringe and you wonder how Hyuck is dealing with that in clothing so thin. Do spiders not feel cold? Or is it just a Donghyuck thing to be warm no matter where he is?

“We should spend some time at the ultra secure facility your dad has,” he says.

“What? Why?”

“I think someone has a grudge against you.”

You hold onto him as he climbs to the roof of your apartment building.

“They’re not gonna- They’re not gonna blow up this place, right?”

“They’re probably just after you,” he responds, eyes still on the horizon.

The sudden seriousness in him makes you feel chilly.

“The guy who was tailing you the other day, he was mostly just figuring out your routine. I thought your dad was planning an elaborate surprise party for you but his vibes were so off.”

“Wait, so this radioactive spider gave you a functional vibe checker too?”

“Yes, I am literally better than anyone you know. You don’t have to tell me you feel blessed, I already know.”

You roll your eyes. Even if he looks that serious, no word of his ever will be.

You're about to open your mouth when a strange whirring fills the air, making you step closer to Hyuck. Why didn't you have a radioactive lion bite you or something? You could’ve been the queen of the concrete jungle. You're definitely making your next project a cool weapon.

Donghyuck reacts before your eyes can catch the source of the disturbance. He slings a web opposite the direction you’re facing before pushing you down to the floor.

“Is that a man with a chainsaw arm?” You screech before squinting to see more clearly. “Holy shit, that’s kinda cool.”

You can finally see the perpetrator—a large bearded man with a noticeable scar across his pudgy nose, and most importantly, you see the chainsaw arm from which the loud whirring emanates. You really don’t think spiders can win against lawnmowers.

Donghyuck, however, is always ready to prove you wrong. A shot from his web -linger jams the chainsaw first.

“That buys us ninety seconds,” he tells you before shooting more webs at the man’s feet to root him.

Another shot at the man’s face makes him grunt in annoyance and Donghyuck takes the opportunity to drop a kick at the back of his knees, making him fall to the ground.

“Okay, big guy,” Donghyuck starts when he’s immediately met with a punch from the man’s left hand.

It makes you cringe, the blood running from his nose more so but he recovers quickly. He glances at you and signals a thumbs up.

“Focus on the guy,” you yell, exasperated.

“Right!” He yells back.

Donghyuck twists the guy’s chainsaw arm back and sticks it to the ground right when it breaks free, denying the man movement. You’ve gotta say, Donghyuck fights smarter and less flashy than you thought he would.

“Who’re you working for and can you please turn yourself in? It’s really cold and I forgot my suit,” Donghyuck tells him.

The man snorts. “It’s a kid. It’s a fucking kid. I’ve got a daughter your age.”

“Sorry, I’m not interested. I’m sure she’s lovely but I have someone I like.”

The man groans. “It’s an annoying kid,” he corrects.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Donghyuck presses.

“And I just want my money.”

“I’m not letting you hurt my friend,” he says, voice low.

“Look, I didn’t know the target was a little girl.”

“I’m an adult!” You yell to clarify.

The man looks conflicted, eyebrows furrowing into frustration.

“Christmas,” he says finally. “He wants to kidnap the daughter and get some money from the father. Not sure about the exact details. This guy is a newbie anyway.”

“Thanks!” Hyuck says brightly. “I’ll tell the police to shorten your sentence. Also, cool arm by the way.”

The man rolls his eyes. “Punk. You’re lucky I’m retiring soon.”

“I knew this guy would be cool, I didn’t sense bloodlust,” Donghyuck tells you, grinning.

After the ordeal is over and Donghyuck has dropped the man in front of the police station, you can get no word in against staying at your dad’s security locker. Donghyuck won’t listen.

“Hyuck, I know you think it’s inconvenient but what am I supposed to tell my dad?”

“Anything! You just have to be safe till I find this guy.”

“I’ll be fine!”

“No! You won’t!” He sounds genuinely frustrated for once. “You do things before you think—it’s stressing me out.”

You frown. “I… I’m sorry, Hyuck. I just- If I make myself a weapon, am I good? I- I really don’t want to be stuck in a cold, steel room.”

He pauses to think before sighing.

“I’m not gonna say sorry because it feels weird in my mouth but… fine. You can just stay with me. Like within five feet at all times.”

“Jeez, do you want me to sit on your lap while we’re at it?”

Why would you say that? God is certainly frowning upon you.

Donghyuck doesn’t respond, eyes looking directly into yours and a flush shoots up to your neck and face.

“I was kidding. I was kidding! Obviously.”

It makes Donghyuck laugh, finally, albeit it’s a small and short one. It makes you remember Jaemin’s words. He’s just a boy. He shouldn’t be holding the thread an entire city’s peace hangs onto.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you say. “There’s so many other superheroes if this guy proves to be tough.”

He laughs. “I appreciate your attempt at comforting people, sunflower.”

“Hey, it’s not that bad!”

“I just want you to be safe. You’re an idiot so- you’re just accident-prone.”

Your cheeks are hot and you don’t know what to call this feeling. You wish you were closer, even if it was by a few more centimeters.

“I’ll be fine,” you say finally, almost indignant. “If you underestimate me again, I’m going to make you wear a maid outfit over the suit.”

He blinks before a grin spreads across his face. You love it when you make him smile. Surely, there’s a name for this feeling?

“Alright, princess, let’s get this rat bastard dealt with then. It’s your first mission.”

“I won’t mess up, sir!” You salute, breaking into laughter and suddenly December is warmer and louder.

“Really? On the birthday of our lord and savior, Jesus Christ? It’s like he died for nothing, dude.”

Donghyuck looks at the man in black disapprovingly.

This guy did not prove to be tough. Life is full of disappointments like that. It wasn’t that hard to find him, considering he was on your company-owned building’s helipad and looking like an adult emo, embarrassing even you. He has his henchmen with him, who are better dressed in formal suits and some funky patterned ties.

“You’re Spiderman,” the man snarls.

“And I’m (name)!” You introduce yourself.

“I don’t really care. Men! Take care of the little girl.”

You place your hands on your hip. “You are so rude! Get him, Spidey.”

“Yeah, don’t be mean to my…uh, sugar mommy!” He points an accusatory finger at the guy.

The man is a little disappointing considering you spent an evening researching all the cool villains Spiderman has fought before. This guy just looks like a rat.

You blink.

On closer inspection, he looks uncannily like a rat.

“Are you like a rat hybrid?” Donghyuck asks, scratching the back of his head. He’s in his suit but even through the mask, his confusion is obvious.

“You have no idea what this trashy billionaire does to his workers,” he growls. “And you’re judging me?”

“Let me guess, you fell into some weird radioactive stuff? You guys have got to stop falling into stuff! Follow some workplace safety guidelines for the love of Jesus,” Donghyuck complains.

The man turns red in the face. Not a humor kind of guy, you guess.

“Look, billionaires are trashy—except Tony Stark—and no offense, (name).” Donghyuck begins.

“None taken.” You shrug.

“But you’ve really got to plan stuff out before you do things. You don’t think cooler villains than you have tried this exact same thing? No offense.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m not having a kid lecture me.”

“I’m not a kid!” he retorts quickly.

Instead of a verbal response, you’re met with a net shot right at you, tangling you in ropes as you fall backwards. You kind of expected this. You’ve been kidnapped before. Granted Thor was visiting Earth and it ended up being ten minutes of sitting in a van before getting saved. You also got a sweet autograph out of it.

The rat man—it’s a really inappropriate time to laugh at names—is faster than he looks, pinning Donghyuck down all of a sudden.

However, you’ve come prepared. Your little science project took only two days to make and it’s a mini laser shooter you made with stolen equipment from the company’s R&D department. Not as cool as you wanted, yes, but it serves its purpose. First, you need to have Hyuck distract them.

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about your damsel in distress?” The villain laughs, and Donghyuck shakes his head. How long did the guy practice to make it sound evil?

“First of all, that’s not a damsel in distress. If anything, she’s a rather distressing damsel.”

The villain looks unimpressed.

“Second of all, you should really look out for the Stark drones on your left.”

The man spins to his left, on high alert, and it creates an opening. Donghyuck shoots a web right at his face before landing a clean kick to his stomach. He gets in another sweep at the legs, making his opponent fall to the ground with a miserable thud and Donghyuck isn’t looking for praise, but he really hopes you’re absorbing how cool he is.

“I can’t believe you fell for it, dude! Are you new?” He laughs. In this moment, Donghyuck decides that he would make a great supervillain even if the laugh was a bit on the boyish side. He can work on it.

“Shut up,” the man snarls.

“You know, I hear that a lot.”

The henchmen charge in first and it’s an easy bunch for Donghyuck to handle. A guy with a machete, a guy with a gun, a guy with a—is that a laser beam? Hyuck dodges just in time to kick the guy in the face. Most of them are incapacitated after getting stuck by his web shots. He hopes he doesn’t get a web block any time soon.

A thin arrow pierces his left bicep, making him cry out in pain.

“It’s poison!” The rat man laughs, a crossbow in hand.

“Seriously?” Donghyuck complains.

Before he can make a move, the villain yelps and drops the crossbow. He turns to see you gesturing a thumbs up with a huge grin, the ropes piling around you. Why are you sitting there casually? He thinks.

“I just want the girl,” the man snarls, holding his hand. Looks like you got a finger or two. Ouch.

“What did she do to you?” Donghyuck asks, frustrated. “Just take it up with the dad, you wimp.”

“I will not stand for it. If I take over the lab, the whole city will learn the wonders of genetic modifications.”

“There it is, you selfish plan. It’s like you don’t care about defeating billionaires anymore,” Donghyuck huffs.

“The whole city will be serving me as creatures superior to mankind. You see, rat genes—”

“You’re…telling me… you want to turn the whole of New York into rat people? Because you became one? Not to sound insensitive but isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“Of course, a little bas—”

Donghyuck throws a hard punch at the guy’s face, making him stumble backwards.

“You…”

The man passes out.

“Sorry, what? Were you talking? I genuinely thought it was a ‘punch you in the face’ kind of moment.” Donghyuck cups his ear.

He’s out cold.

“We did it, Hyuck!” You run over to him, jumping onto him to give him a tight hug.

“Whoa! I’m just glad I didn’t get a scratch on my face before tonight’s party.”

Your smile drops. “Wait, he said it was poison.”

You gently take his arm to inspect. He pulls away.

“I’ve dealt with poison before, you know? I still can’t believe it was a rat. What’s next, a lizard?”

You chuckle. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Yeah, also, I’m swinging down so the press can get my good side.”

“What?”

He grabs you by the waist and jumps off the building with no warning, his laughter the only response to your scream. Donghyuck cannot believe he resorted to jumping off a building to avoid talking about his feelings.

You’re still clinging onto him once he lands. A horde of reporters surround the two of you in a matter of moments. You forgot just how annoying they were.

“Spiderman, who were you fighting?”

“Will there be more threats to the Nacorp Industries in the future?”

“Are you and (name) dating?”

“(name), any plans to take over the company?”

Donghuck clears his throat and an immediate silence follows.

“I- I was just clearing my throat,” he clarifies.

“Real smooth,” you snort.

“Why don’t you try answering, sunflower?” he whispers through his teeth.

A commotion ensues once again, questions flooding your ears and you swear you’ve never heard this many words at once before.

“Oh! I see Cat!” Donghyuck grabs your hand and makes his way through the crowd.

“Ooh, it’s Spiderman,” the pretty woman, who you assume is Cat, begins in a smooth voice. “What tidbit can we get from you today? You know the randomest fact boosts my salary so go ahead.”

She leans in to whisper the last part.

“Sicheng! Roll the cameras,” she instructs.

The cameraman, who looks terribly sleep deprived but still pretty, hums in response before signaling a go.

“Good afternoon, citizens. We have Spiderman here today with the lovely Ms (name) after they thwarted the attack by an anomaly at Nacorp Tower.”

“She knows me?” You whisper, a hot flush rising at the idea of someone as attractive knowing you.

“You’re, like, famous,” Donghyuck whispers back, clicking his tongue.

“I heard workers are often suffering at work sites but I have also heard that Nacorp CEO has made the decision to install AI worker suits that avoid hazards. Do you think this is a good idea, (name)?”

“Well, we have been working on it for a while and testing results are great! Like over a ninety-nine percent chance of success, and that is so cool. The demo will be out soon.”

Your bright smile makes everyone around smile instinctively.

“And Spiderman, this has been a hot question for a while now.”

She pauses to smile.

“What is your Zodiac sign?”

“Uh… Gemini?”

“Spiderman is a Gemini! You heard it first from Cat at the Daily Bugle, folks,” the reporter announces with a dazzling smile.

“You two can go play in the snow now, the cameras are off,” she informs you before pulling Sicheng off the streets, “Have fun!”

Of course, you weren’t about to have a snowball fight in the middle of Times Square. So you return to your apartment—you’re getting used to the swinging now though Donghyuck still thinks his windpipe has suffered permanent damage.

“No, no, no, (name), this suit is skintight!”

A girlish scream follows as you manage to pull his suit back and shove a snowball inside, the evilest laugh he’s ever heard ringing through the empty roof. You were the supervillain all along—with your gorgeous laugh and stunning eyes and sincere words. He’s far off the deep end now.

God, why can’t he just spit it out? He’s in love and there’s no way to untangle himself out of these feelings. Tonight, he promises himself.

“So Spiderman swings by and says ‘Hey, nice phone, I’m gonna chuck it into space’ and now I have no phone,’ Jaemin tells Karina and Winter, both of them giggling at his miserable expression.

“I didn’t know you were a pushover, Jaemin,” Karina snorts.

“I’m not! I was so sleepy that before I knew it, Spiderman stole my phone.”

“It’s been almost a week, get over it,” Hyuck mutters.

You chuckle at his annoyed expression.

Lana rolls her eyes beside Jaemin. You genuinely can’t believe she’s been with him all these years but you supposed she’d say the same about you and Donghyuck being best friends.

“You’ve lamented about your phone like thrice,” Yeji comments from behind the couch. “Also, (name), help me get some more beer cans. Ugh. I don’t know why you guys have this shit when wine exists.”

“I’m financially stressed, leave me alone,” Jaemin mutters, “And I agree on the wine part, actually.”

Everything is fine for now. You think you’ll stick to the lab instead of fighting—at least until you get more flexible. Epic battles are better suited to comic books, and so are grand gestures.

There’s just one thing unresolved now. Your damn feelings. The festive atmosphere is making you crave proximity, just one chance to tell him. You never knew what longing felt like before.

You follow Yeji outside the house, dragging your feet as you run a few million scenarios. God, why isn’t there AI to fix your love life? Do you have to ask the wizards for help?

“So… Is it true you’re dating Spiderman?” Yeji asks, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” you answer quickly.

“Oh good,” she sighs and you tilt your head inquisitively.

“I think you and Donghyuck should be a thing. No pressure though.” She raises her hand in a dismissive gesture.

“He’s… well… I can’t really tell what he’s thinking,” you answer honestly.

She hums. “Just tell him, then. You know him best and communication is key. God, I sound like a mother; Ryujin was right.”

You laugh and she smiles back at you.

“Also, I bet money on you getting together with Donghyuck,” she says.

You roll your eyes. “Why did I expect that? My friends are all pretty jerks.”

She snorts. “Your choice of best friend gives it away. Oh, by the way, you don’t really have to help me with the beer, I just wanted to make sure you’re kiss kiss falling in love.”

“Huh?”

Instead of answering, she skips away with a cryptic smile. There’s another person you can’t decode but she truly is a fairy godmother.

You shiver at the cold, turning to go back inside when you hear shuffling on the roof. Donghyuck slowly lowers on a web, upside down and brown hair a mess around him.

“Renjun gave me a pep talk on the roof,” he says frankly.

You laugh. “Yeji gave me mine.”

“Our friends are really fed up with us, huh?”

“Are you- uh- are you sure you should be doing this in public?” You look around before stepping in close.

“No one’s getting out in two degree temperature, stupid.”

You don’t realize how close you stepped in till your noses touch and an instant flush floods Donghyuck’s face. Your heart beats so fast and for a moment, you think you can hear his. (It’s even faster than yours.)

You press your lips against his without further thought. The action, however, makes him let go of the web and faceplants onto the snow-covered ground. You hold in your laughter as he simply lies on his stomach there, his ears growing increasingly red.

He gets up, nose and cheeks all red.

“Good evening, Rudolph.” You giggle, unable to hold it in.

“Look, I tripped over Chenle and faceplanted onto a bowl of chili, okay? Who brought a bowl of chili to a Christmas party?” He complains, dusting the snow off.

You laugh, the warmth reaching your stomach.

“You know, we just kissed, right?” You mumble, starting to feel embarrassed.

There’s a silence and you’re not sure how to face him now. How did your confidence drain so easily? Your mother said you’d never run out of obnoxiousness—and she said the same thing about Hyuck. (“So you two better stick together, darling.”)

“Hyuck- okay, I’m sorry- that was uncalled for- I- I- just—”

Your words dissolve in your mouth when his lips meet yours.

“I- I- just- wow, I don’t- god, you made me so mad! Why did you go silent all of a sudden? I—”

He plants his lips on yours again.

“—you asshole… I swear—”

“(name). You’re rambling. Just shut up and kiss me.” He smiles against your mouth and you can’t help it either.

“You think it was the right thing to do?” You ask, peering down at Donghyuck on your lap.

“What was?”

“Rat man wasn’t exactly wrong. There are working hazards.”

“He was the same kind of wrong, just a different perspective. Turning NYC into rats is a bit much.”

You laugh.

“Are you gonna get up any time soon?”

“I just fought a weird lizard man trying to turn New York into lizard people, give me a break,” he groans, burying his face against your side.

“I can’t believe you almost died again,” you say distastefully.

“All’s well that ends well,” he says, shrugging.

“But I’m a new hell every time~” You sing.

He gives you the blankest expression he can muster.

“Okay, fine, but if we’re not singing Taylor Swift, we’re not singing Justin Bieber either.”

“Ugh, fine, Mariah Carey it is. She’s like my mom anyway.”

“You saved her once and your voice cracked when you spoke to her.”

“Never happened. Stop lying, (name).”

“Your cheeks are red.”

“They are not.”

“Like my favorite album.”

“Ugh.”

“And my favorite superhero’s suit color.”

A soft laugh erupts from him as he looks down and back at you. Gosh, he’s pretty. You slip your hand into his and he gives it a squeeze.

“My favorite superhero's Iron Man, by the way,” you say, a cheeky grin accompanying.

“Shut up, you love me.”

#haechan fluff #haechan x reader #haechan scenarios #haechan fanfic #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 x reader #nct dream scenarios #luvpuffcore collab #pls fill in the action scenes yourself i tried my best and failed </3 #if you get every spiderman/mcu/t swift reference you get a special reward #ignore the plotholes i wrote everything today djkssdh

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choisanshine · 2 years

Text

Daddy Issues 18+

College AU!Changbin Smut 18+ only

Pairing: seo changbin x female reader

Changbin has to work with a new partner on an important project for one of his courses. Definitely doesn't fall for the girl ;)

Genre: university au, smut, slight plot

Warnings: daddy kink, fingering, oral (f & m), pet names (mostly "good girl" and "baby girl"), hair pulling, light breast play, a bit of whipped cream kink, mostly switch!Changbin and switch!Reader (there is not much of power dynamics), lots of communication during sex, and some slight body issues

Word Count: 10.4k

a/n: the beginning is long and maybe not great, but the smut might be worth it. also, I originally wrote it in 3rd person, so there might be some errors. And one last thing, the "camera" is more focused on Changbin

Enjoy!

“Jung Wooyoung, I cannot believe you!” The blond heard the roar before seeing his friend. Fear coursed through his veins as he frantically looked around the crowded commons area. He was unable to locate the other male's face before he was jolted back from a shove. Wooyoung was grateful he had chosen a chair against the wall, as the push was unable to knock him to the ground.

Wooyoung had seen his best friend angry before, he'd even had the rage directed at himself. However, this was on a whole other level. He'd never seen Changbin assault anyone, not for real, in public. This was a first, and Wooyoung almost felt proud of himself. Almost.

“What do you mean 'you had our group reassigned'??” Changbin shook his slightly taller friend, arms flexing subconsciously. Changbin might have been, infinitesimally shorter, but he was quite a bit bulkier than Wooyounh.

“It wasn't intentional!” Wooyoung's hands flew up to cover his face. “I didn't mean for it to happen, but the professor walked in on me and San having a disagreement about a different topic and wanted to see how we could 'resolve our issues'.” Wooyoung made air quotes around the last words. He rolled his eyes, as if he wasn't interested himself in how things would work out. He definitely didn't mean the topic though. He would be lying if he said he didn't take every opportunity to get himself noticed by Choi San, but the pink haired boy was somewhat of an enigma. And now, Wooyoung was getting his chance to unravel that anomaly, if it took him the whole semester.

“Wooyoung,” Changbin's voice was threateningly low, “this assignment is worth half our grade and we both need this class for our degree.”

“Right?! So, shouldn't we separate for at least one assignment? We've been working together for three whole years, I think we are getting a bit dry, don't you?”

“No! I think we understand each other better than anyone else and I know I can get you to agree with me on any of our topics!” Changbin's muscles flexed reflexively.

“Wow.” Wooyoung faked surprise. “So the truth comes out.” Changbin rolled his eyes. “I'm just some idiot who signs my name at the top of your group assignment and gets you the grade? Is that it?”

“Honestly, I'm kind of surprised you were able to connect those dots. So, yeah. You are the fool who helps me keep my glorious grades for our classes.” Changbin ran his fingers through his hair. “I can't believe you sold me out like this! And for some dick. You are the actual worst, you know?”

Wooyoung smirked. “Oh I know. But, don't be too upset. Your new partner is going to be good for you. She's one of the seniors I had for our Freshmen orientation. I think you'll get along really well for this project.”

“Oh great, I have to deal with a senior? They are the worst. They are so lazy and make us do all the work, but have all these opinions on how the project should be run instead and then I'm left doing all the work that I don't even agree with just to make sure they pass this class!!” Changbin huffed in frustration. He really might kill Wooyoung this time.

“Oh please,” Wooyoung rolled his eyes. “Like you wouldn't suck Chan's dick if he told you he'd get you free points for a class.”

“Listen here, you little shit, I would absolutely suck Chan's dick if he said he'd give me bonus points, just tell me the time and place.” Changbin smirked finally. He wasn't opposed to the idea of hooking up with a dude, and Chan was like an older brother to him, but that man did not abuse his power and if he told Changbin he would get those bonus points, he knew he'd keep his word.

Wooyoung rolled his eyes. At that moment, something else caught his attention, he perked up and began to wave his hand. Changbin followed his gaze and saw someone walking towards them. If he were being honest, Changbin would never have noticed you, nothing particularly stood out. He only noticed you because you were waving equally frantically as the idiot across the table from himself.

Changbin hadn't even noticed the exasperated sigh he let out until Wooyoung slapped him across the arm. “Would you at least try to look nice?” Wooyoung cringed, “sometimes you look scary, even if you're not trying.” The younger male shuddered, driving home his point.

“And sometimes you run your mouth even if you're not trying to.” Changbin paused for a half second, “Is that something you do intentionally?” Changbin smiled at his own joke, but received nothing but another slap from Wooyoung.

At that moment, you appeared at their table, sliding into the seat next to Wooyoung and slipping your backpack onto the table. You were nervously toying with the zipper on your bag, and would drag the pull tab along the teeth before drawing it closed again. Changbin could tell you were nervous, but couldn't bring himself to be the first to introduce himself. He sighed in relief as Wooyoung took the initiative, as he knew the boy would.

“Bini, this is my friend (y/n). She is a senior from our department. She has to take our course this year because of a misunderstanding with her advisor. Anyway, since she is older, no one wanted to be her partner for the project. But, since I had to switch,” Changbin could hear the smile in Wooyoung's voice, “our professor thinks it would be great if the two of you work together. It's an important assignment, so I think you two should get acquainted and have fun!”

Wooyoung jumped up from his seat without hesitation and was gone in the blink of an eye. Changbin turned in time to see the blonde disappear with a pink haired male. He rolled his eyes and groaned in annoyance.

He glanced over to see a look of concern on your face. You seemed to be having an internal conversation with yourself and were torn on whether or not to speak up.

“Well, spit it out. What's on your mind?”

“You're not one to mince words, huh?”

“It's not that. I just don't...” Changbin sighed, yet again. He was getting frustrated and realized it was coming off as if he were annoyed with someone he'd never even met before. He had to accept that it wasn't your fault and you would have to figure this out one way or another. Together. “It's not your fault.” You nodded in agreement. “So, let's just pick a topic and call it a day. Yeah?”

“That sounds like a good idea to me. Do you mind if I get a drink first, though? I just had two classes back to back and haven't had a chance to stop yet.” As Changbin nodded, you paused, “Would you like anything?”

“Iced Americano.” He said without hesitation.

“One iced Americano, coming right up.” You winked and disappeared in the crowd.

As Changbin waited, he mulled over the situation. He knew he was reacting poorly, but what was done was done, right? So he should just get over his irritation towards Wooyoung and work on having a positive attitude towards his new partner. It wasn't really like him to act like such a dick, and you seemed alright. So far.

Changbin adjusted the cap on his head and was fidgeting with the sleeves of his t-shirt when you quietly returned.

“You know,” the voice from directly behind Changbin caused him to jump in his seat.

“Fuck, you scared me.” He mumbled, reaching out to take the proffered cup from the person he was finally getting used to.

“Sorry.” You mumbled.

“What were you saying?”

“Why is Advanced Religious Studies a part of the curriculum for lit majors? I mean, it's not like I'm complaining or anything, it's an interesting enough course. But...why?” You took a sip from your blended beverage that came with enough whipped cream to spill from the domed lid. Changbin couldn't help watching as your pink tongue darted out to lap at the cream. He impulsively bit his lip finding the scene a little more erotic than surely intended.

You startled when he cleared his throat and adjusted himself in his seat. A drop of white smeared on the corner of your mouth, causing Changbin's brain to short out for the briefest of seconds. “Um, you got, a little...right there. Ugh! In the corner of your....here.” He reached out with a napkin to wipe the offended confection away. “You were saying?” He finally settled back in his seat with a huff. If he didn't know better, he would assume you had done it on purpose.

“Religious s-studies.” You were visibly nervous. He wasn't sure if it was due to the incident, or if his resting bitch face returned. He tried to relax and smile a bit more, but was still slightly uncomfortable.

“I mean, don't all major religions have some sort of text?” Ah, yes that was enough to get Changbin on a roll. “Wouldn't it make sense for us to discuss all of the literature across all those cultures? Not only is it the core of many civilizations, but most themes in stories come from some religion or another.”

You were nodding as Changbin finished his mini speech. “I guess you have a point there.”

“So what topic would you like to work on?”

“Wouldn't it be easier if we chose a religion first?”

“Maybe.”

“What are you interested in, then?”

Changbin shrugs. “I guess the easiest would be Christianity? There's gotta be the most scholarly research on that topic?”

“Ew, no. Please.”

“O..kay? How about Greek? Zeus has a lot of baggage we can unpack?” At the shake of your head, Changbin redirects again. “Norse? We could... I dunno, Odin is their main god?”

“No.”

“What? Why aren't any of those acceptable? Do you have some sort of daddy issues?” Changbin, arms folded against his chest, smirked.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You stood up so quickly your chair toppled over. “Even...even if my relationship with my...why would you say that?”

“I was just joking!” Changbin surged forward as well, reaching to grab your arm.

“Maybe you should figure out what a joke is, then.” You tore yourself away and stormed off, leaving Changbin to scratch his head in confusion and frustration.

“So she just ran off?” Wooyoung seemed skeptical. He might not know you as well, but he knew Changbin better than just about anyone else.

“I mean, I might have said something kind of...rude?”

“Ah, there it is.”

“It wasn't supposed to be!” Changbin threw his hands in the air. “You know I wouldn't just do something like that. Not to someone I don't really know.”

“That's true.” Wooyoung agreed.

“So, will you give me her number? We still haven't settled on a topic.”

“Yeah, yeah. She told me to send it to you, anyway. I guess she thinks you should reach out first, too?” Wooyoung took Changbin's cell and entered the number along with a contact name.

“Wooyoungie,” Changbin's voice was overly sweet, “Why is there a heart next to her name?”

Wooyoung giggled. “I am psychic and I know what will happen in your future.”

“You're an idiot.”

“But I am YOUR idiot.” Wooyoung affectionately laid his head on Changbin's shoulder as he laced arms with the shorter male, who did nothing to throw him off.

“Tck! Speaking of, how are things going with San?”

The sigh from the blond was anything if not dreamy. “Oh very well. We've already picked our topic and divided our research. It's going to really be a great semester. I even saved his number with a heart. So, you know I will be right about you and (y/n).” Wooyoung teased.

“I thought you were supposed to be MY idiot?” Changbin tapped Wooyoung's head tauntingly. He didn't see Wooyoung roll his eyes.

“Anyway,” Wooyoung switched up, “there's a party this weekend. You are coming and you don't have a choice, okay? Okaaayy??” Wooyoung batted his eyelashes flirtingly, only causing Changbin to fake throwing up. “Don't be rude, asshole. You never go out anymore, and I'm worried you are...” Wooyoung leaned in close, a look of concern on his face as he glanced down, “becoming impotent.”

“Fucker!” Changbin swung at Wooyoung, who expertly dodged his best friend's attack. “I am fully functioning! And that's none of your business anyway!” Wooyoung giggled as he continued to dance out of Changbin's reach, he was becoming more elated by the moment as the dark haired male became more irritated. “Fucking stand still so I can beat the shit out of you!”

“Iiis this a bad time?”

Both boys stilled as they glanced up at the newcomer. Wooyoung immediately jumped up and straightened himself at the sight of his new partner, who was barely holding back his laughter, cute dimples cut into his slender cheeks. The interruption gave Changbin his chance to attack and he launched himself at the distracted male.

“That's not fadjnf!!” Wooyoung began to yell, being cut off by the struggle. “Bini!!” He whined. “You're going to get my shirt dirty! Get off me!!” They wrestled for a moment, Wooyoung clearly losing. “Okay, fine! You are not impotent! You are a god in bed!! You can get anyone you want! Is that what you want to hear?”

“Where did you even learn that word?” Changbin cursed Wooyoung for absolutely making things worse. Their tussle had started to draw a crowd and the last thing Changbin wanted was a quarter of the school hearing his best friend calling him a sex god. “You're a fucking idiot!” Changbin punched Wooyoung's shoulder, for good measure, before pushing himself off the clearly weaker male, and storming off.

Changbin threw his bag into the seat next to him after entering the Lit Reading Lab. He had been running behind and didn't even get the chance to grab a drink on his way over, which only added to his frustration.

“You're late.” A voice came from behind him.

Changbin didn't even bother looking behind him. He knew without having to turn that it was his older mentor. He had come over to get help with his project, and had asked for some assistance from the senior. “I don't need this crap today.”

“Alright, I can just leave.” Contrary to her words, the female settled into the seat opposite of Changbin's disgruntled bag. “What's going on buddy? Are you struggling to find a theme for your project?” The glare Changbin shot had her throwing up her hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I already know you are! But, what's giving you troubles? Wooyoung usually just does whatever you say and that settles that.”

A snicker coming from the door behind Changbin alerted the pair to a third presence. While the woman sitting next to Changbin turned, a smirk on her lips, Changbin only buried his head in his crossed arms.

“Except, Wooyoung isn't his partner this time. It's (y/n).” This came from the male behind Changbin. “He told me what you said.”

“I didn't even tell him-” Changbin shot up, eyes wide, nostrils flaring as realization dawned. Not the conversation with (y/n), but the conversation with Wooyoung. “He did not!” Changbin thrust himself forward, his chair toppled over as he spun to face the older male standing in the doorway of his office. “Chan! He wasn't being serious. It was a joke!”

Chan shrugged. “I mean, if you want to pass this assignment...” His words trailed off as he jokingly gestured for the younger to enter his darkened office. “I'm always more than willing to help out a younger mate.” At that point, Chan couldn't prevent the smirk from gliding over his own lips. “And Sooyoung agreed to share, at least this once. Right babe?” He winked at the female still sitting by Changbin. Tears were forming along her eyeline as she held in her own giggles.

“I'm going to kill him. I think I will actually, finally, rid this world of that pest and be free of Jung Wooyoung once and for all.”

“What has Wooyoungie done this time?” Changbin groaned internally. That was the last thing he needed.

“It's nothing.” He said through grit teeth. He finally turned and settled into his chair. “Since you're here, we can work on figuring out a topic for our project. Okay?” He reached into his bag and pulled out his textbook for their class. “Come on, we have to figure this out.”

Sooyoung leaned in, a hand resting gently on Changbin's arm, and whispered, “Are you going to be alright? We just wanted to tease you a bit, to help you relax.”

“I'm fine.” Changbin sighed, he could always rely on his friends, especially the seniors, to help him out when he was in a bad mood. He was still frustrated, but things were not working out well for him, and he wasn't used to everything coming against him.

“I wasn't sure if you'd want something, so I got you a drink.” The soft voice was coming from his new partner, who had come around the table and handed him the plastic cup with their school cafe logo emblazoned on the side. The name scribbled on the side caused him to smile a bit.

He shook his head, but accepted the drink, happily taking a sip of the cold, dark liquid. It was like heaven in a cup, their cafe hands down made the best iced Americano, but Changbin always thought he was the only one who thought so. “You actually like the cafe? Or did you think you were poisoning me?”

You smiled. “They make their own whipped cream every morning.” As if for extra measure, you dragged a finger into the white foam, and brought the sugary substance to your mouth. Changbin coughed as your lips wrapped around that digit, engulfing the cream as well as your finger. In that moment, for all of a second, he wanted nothing more than to be that finger, swallowed up in your warm mouth.

“I uh...I have to use the restroom, excuse me!”

Before anyone could stop him, Changbin had lurched forward and was out of the Lab and down the hall.

“What was that about?” Chan asked from his office, both you and the other woman at the table shrugged, one clearly more concerned over the younger male than the other. “Sooyoung, do you...” Chan's eyes darted towards you, unknowingly, as you had already began scanning the text book Changbin had taken out. “Nevermind.” Chan shook his head, trying to convince himself he had the wrong idea.

Upon Changbin's return, he noticed Sooyoung had already disappeared, and Chan's office door was shut. He noticed the time and figured Chan was in a meeting with one of the younger students, probably the Freshman he was in charge of this year. You, however, were still pouring over the books that were now scattered over the table he had claimed earlier.

“I was thinking we could do something about Thanatos?”

“Who?”

“Exactly.” You slid a book over to Changbin, opened to a chapter about lesser Greek gods. “It might be a neat idea to do an exposition on Thanatos, who is the actual Greek god of Death. As compared to Hades, who is just the god of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead.”

Changbin shook his head. “I don't know, I don't think there would be enough resources to do the project.”

“My other option would be a comparative analysis on the female gods of the underworld versus the male deities?”

Changbin was lost in thought on the text he was reading. He had read about Thanatos before, and knew Hades wasn't the actual god of death, but there was a lot of misunderstanding for the difference between the two. “I think...we can make this work. What if we used different modes of distributing information to kind of gain attention on the subject? There might not be as much resources for it, and we would have to find a creative way to include that part, but I think we could actually do really well on this project with limited research if we used an unconventional method.”

You were fascinated watching the way Changbin lit up as the ideas started coming together for a bigger picture in his head.

“So, I'd like to start with some sort of journal entry. Like a newspaper article, or a magazine cover, something that is a bit more simple, not too much information, but grabs the attention. Then we could do something unique like host a podcast or do a radio infomercial. I think that could really get our professor's attention. After almost twenty years here, he must have seen just about everything. He's never been too hard on us, but I want to give him something that won't be boring.”

“That actually kind of sounds like a good idea! Are you free this weekend? I have a night class tonight, but maybe we could get together and start?”

Changbin was about to agree, but remembered Wooyoung had told him to come along to the party. He was used to turning down the other male, however Wooyoung only threatened him when he really wanted his friend's attention, and last time Changbin turned Wooyoung down to work on an assignment, Wooyoung made his life hell for almost a month after, only settling down once Changbin agreed to do all of his work as well for a month.

“I can't. I already agreed to help Wooyoung this weekend. And, with his short ass attention span, it will take the whole damn weekend to help him get through everything. I'm so sorry.”

“Don't worry about it. We have the whole semester. But, I don't have any plans, so I will get started, and that way you will have a bit less work. I will also try to draw up some kind of plan to divide the labor so we both have something to contribute. Is there anything you feel particularly comfortable with? Or anything you are bad at?”

As their conversation dwindled down, Changbin noticed how late it had gotten and reminded you of your class. Changbin sat in the lab for a little while longer, collecting his thoughts as he gathered his belongings.

“Someone has it bad.”

“What are you talking about, Chan? Whatever, I'm leaving, now. See you later.” Chan waved Changbin off, a little bummed he didn't get another chance to tease the younger.

“Here, just wear this.” Wooyoung pushed some clothes into Changbin's hands and shooed him off to the bathroom. “Why on earth did it take you so long to just choose a freakin outfit?” While Changbin was always reluctant to give any sort of compliments to his best friend, he did have to admit that Wooyoung knew his way around the closet. He had been stuck in it long enough. Changbin smirked at his clever thoughts. But, was impressed with the choice Wooyoung had made. Sexuality aside, Wooyoung knew how to get the girls to fall all over him. It was a gift, truly. And Changbin was lucky enough that Wooyoung was willing to extend that gift to him as well.

Wooyoung let out a wolf whistle as Changbin stepped out from the bathroom. “I did an amazing job, again. You are going to have your hands full while I sneak off to have some fun with San.” Wooyoung chuckled darkly, knowing full well Changbin already knew he was planning on breaking his promise to stick together the whole night. It wasn't that hard to figure Wooyoung out. After all, they had known each other long enough at this point.

The boys walked up to the house party at a quarter past ten, early enough that nothing serious had happened yet, but late enough that they wouldn't be known as the losers who showed up first. Changbin didn't know who lived here, as they had been friends of Wooyoung from some of his other clubs that Changbin avoided at all costs.

It wasn't long before Wooyoung caught sight of the pink-haired boy and was leaving Changbin stranded in the kitchen to awkwardly stand and hope no one wanted to mingle with him.

Changbin was pouring himself a second cup of whatever was mixed in the punch bowl when two towering figures approached him. “You must be Wooyoungie's friend. He's told us a bit about you.” The slightly larger figure offered a hand.

Changbin politely took the man's hand, but slipped away as quickly as he could, really not wanting to interact with anyone. He checked his watch, it had only been twenty minutes. He gave himself til midnight just in case Wooyoung needed to leave, and if not, at least partially convince the younger that he was still a good friend who even waited that long.

Changbin wandered around the house, admiring the décor of the old house. He tested a few handles, discovering what rooms were locked and which were currently occupied or empty. He was used to being let alone with his own thoughts, and exploring was somewhat of a nasty habit when he was left alone.

As he wandered back downstairs, he was surprised at what he found in the living room.

A group of seniors and juniors had gathered around the coffee table, which was filled with cups with various liquids in varying amounts, it appeared. One of the seniors, Changbin was fairly certain it was one of the tenants of the house, seemed to be leading some sort of drinking game. Most of the students sitting around the table had their own cups as well, occasionally taking a sip here and there. However, what really caught Changbin's attention was the figure uncomfortably squished between two excited students.

He sneaked up behind the couch, and got close to your ear before loudly whispering, “I thought you were going to be home working on our project all weekend?”

Changbin's voice caused you to, nearly spilling the contents of the cup of the girl next to her.

“Changbin!? What the fuck?” Your head turned almost as far as it could. Changbin was caught off guard and lost his train of thought as your lips nearly collided with his own.

“Ehem!” The male at the center cleared his throat, begging their attention. “If you're not going to join, then go away.”

“Sorry, we'll be quiet.”

“Nah, now you have to drink. But, you don't get to pick it.” The man stuck his tongue out. “Both of you.”

You agreed to let the leader of the game choose a drink for each of them, and handed Changbin the cup with clearly more liquid. It didn't smell terrible, but the lack of color caused some concern to Changbin. He took a breath to steel himself and chugged the whole thing in one go. He was pleasantly surprised to find it was a fruity flavored rum. Still, he wasn't sure if he wanted to try his luck with the next drink.

Changbin wanted to pull you away from the group, he wanted to talk to you, to apologize for his previous behavior. He wanted to know why you ended up coming to this specific party. He wanted to spend some time alone with you. Instead, he found himself squeezing between the girl to your right and you. He failed to notice the small smile that crept onto your lips.

“Alright, so the next task is..” the guy at the center seemed to think for a second, before a devious smirk came over him. “Next task is to say something to the person on your right something. Preferably a secret.” Changbin glanced at the girl he was now sitting next to, having never seen her in his life, he was hesitant.

However, the voice coming from your left caused him to freeze. He turned to the male who had taken your hand, and watched at the man leaned in close.

“I would let you call me daddy while you ride my dick.” His tongue flicked out, brushing over his lower lip and resting briefly at the corner of his mouth.

An unfamiliar rage flared inside of Changbin. He wasn't used to the feeling. He had been angry before, but something about the lascivious words and salacious action had Changbin surging to his feet.

“The fuck did you just say?” He grabbed the male by the collar, nearly pulling him to his feet. The male simply chuckled and cocked an eyebrow at Changbin. “Why don't you watch the way you talk to a lady? Huh? You can't just go around saying things like that?”

The man grabbed Changbin's hands, pulling the shorter male loose from his shirt, and stood up, standing nearly a full head over Changbin. “It's just a game. And, what are you going to do about it? I told the pretty girl what was on my mind. She's free to take me up on the offer any time. Dude, is she your girlfriend or something?” The male snickered.

“No, but that doesn't...”

“If not, why do you care what another man says to her? How about you let her decide if she is offended by it or not?” Changbin wanted nothing more than to punch this guy in the face. He couldn't believe the actual audacity of some people.

Changbin pushed away from the taller male, instead turned his attention towards you. “If you want to get out of here, I'm leaving now.” Changbin sneered one more time at the man and stormed off, hoping desperately that you would be following him.

He had barely made it to his car when he heard a sound behind him.

“You know, if you're going to tell me to follow you, at least give me a chance to catch up!” Changbin spun around to see the one person he most needed in front of him. “Well, c'mon.” You grabbed at the passenger side door. “Ah, I am so relieved I ran into you.” you sighed as you settled into the front seat. “Sooyoung literally dragged me here! She said that if I didn't come to this stupid party, she wouldn't let me participate in any of the events for the rest of the year. Which is kind of stupid, but honestly I kind of enjoy them. Especially helping out with the Halloween booth. But, when I saw you, I was really relieved. As soon as Sooyoung saw Chan, she was on his dick like a moth to flame. But anyway...”

Changbin zoned out as you continued to ramble. His head spun with the events. He couldn't believe you had actually followed him. And gotten into his car. And was just spilling everything. He wasn't even sure what all you were saying, but he also felt certain you were nervously ranting.

“Are you okay?” He interrupted.

“What?” He couldn't see you look down at your shaking hands.

“Are you alright? That guy...”

“Ah, that. I am okay. It was unexpected. I don't usually go to parties so I didn't know that people actually....ah. Yeah.” You trailed off.

“I've never been that...angry at someone. For something. I felt like my blood was going to boil. I couldn't believe he'd just say something like that! Out loud! In front of people!”

Changbin was shocked when you began to giggle, the sound quickly built a crescendo and filled his car.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I'm just...I was so nervous! How do you respond to something like that? And then you jumped in. And, god you looked so sexy.”

“What?” Changbin was floored.

“Fuck, Changbin, I've never had someone jump to my defense like that. But, you looked like a fucking dark knight in those pants and...honestly my stomach got tied in knots. Are you close? I...don't...hmm.”

“What's wrong?” Changbin turned, more concerned about you, squirming in your seat, over the car-free street he was driving down. It was the middle of the night, and no moving cars were in sight.

“Bini...” you whined and grasped for his hand. “Please hurry.”

The two minute ride was completely silent as Changbin drove the rest of the way to the house he shared with Wooyoung. He knew the other boy would not be home that evening, as he had already made plans to stay with San that night. He wouldn't be home for a couple days if Changbin knew anything about his best friend.

You were shaking as he lead you through his front door. Before he could ask if you were okay again, you were pulling him by the hand to the couch. Your hands were shaking as you settled next to him. “Changbin..” you voice was barely above a whisper, but it affected Changbin in a way he was not prepared for.

“(y/n)?” His eyes didn't leave your pink lips as they closed the distance between his own.

For just a second, your skin lingered over his, a mere breath away. Changbin didn't wait for you to come closer, instead he grabbed either side of your face and pulled you deeply into him. His tongue darted between his lips to slide along the part of your own, begging for entrance, but not waiting for permission.

The moan that came from your throat drowned out the groan that came from his own. He swallowed the sound and drew more from you. His hand slid down to your throat, cold fingers gently wrapped around the column. He pulled you closer for just a moment before he pushed you away, hand still holding you by the neck.

“There's something I haven't been able to...” he swallowed hard, “get out of my head. Since the first day when you uh, got the whipped cream.”

A small giggle bubbled from you. “Just tell me what you want.” Changbin became acutely aware that your hands were clamped on his leather-clad thighs, and the head rush he got made him dizzy. He took three deep breathes to calm himself just enough to speak.

“I want your...ugh!” His hand ran through his hair, knocking the white cap he had been wearing onto the couch, as well as sending the strands of his hair flying in every direction. He looked a hot mess, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, only adding to his sexiness.

“Tell me, Bini, what you want. I need to know.” You whined. You looked up at him, soft lips already looking redder. Your tongue flicked out to wet those plush lips, sending waves of need through Changbin's body. His stomach clenched. “If you don't, I'll have to figure it out myself, won't I?” Your voice sounded innocent, but Changbin knew it was just an illusion. You were toying with him. You were also toying with the belt at his waist. Fingers teasingly tugged at the strap. Changbin was at a complete loss of words.

His hands slid into your hair, tugging you down until you were on the floor, kneeling in front of him. Your eyes were still wide, looking like a naive girl who had no idea what you were doing. He could tell from the faux hesitant actions that you were intentionally riling him up, but by god if it wasn't working. He was going to go straight to hell, and it would be worth every cursed second.

Your warm, pink tongue wet your lips again as fingers danced along the tab of his zipper. That slight release of pressure from his crotch was enough for him to grind his hips upwards. Changbin did not miss the smirk that played over those precious lips.

“Bini,” your voice was still whiny, “What is it that you want? Could you please tell me?”

Something in Changbin's head clicked, and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. “I.....don't think I should say. It's not appropriate.” He cleared his throat.

The facade you were holding broke at his words. “Your dick is five inches from my face and you think it's inappropriate to say what you want?”

“Wha!! It's just...that guy. I don't want to be like him.”

An actual laugh resounded. “Don't worry about things like that. It's a different situation. I am asking you to tell me what it is you want. What you've wanted since we first met?”

Changbin threw his head back, hands covered his face as he groaned.

You pushed yourself up, instead climbing into Changbin's lap. “Would you feel better if we touched a bit more first? Do you want me to tell you what I want from you?”

Changbin dropped his hands, met your gaze. “I mean, maybe it could help? Wh-what do you want from me?”

“First, I want you out of this shirt. You look fucking hot in it, but I know you work out, and I've seen you flex a couple of times and I want to see how you look underneath.” You tugged at his shirt, which was still tucked into his pants. He raised his arms to let roaming hands pull the offending cloth loose and over his head.

A breath hitched as his full chest came into view. “Fuck. You are...” your hands did the talking, grazing over his muscular shoulders, down his defined pecks, over his abdomen. He threw his head back as fingertips skimmed over his erect nipples, you leaned in close and blew against his heated skin, then flicked your tongue out and swirled around the peak. Changbin's hand found it's way back into your hair, drawing you closer to him as he tugged at the locks. His groans were low and gravely.

Your body was pressed in close to Changbin's, not quite touching, but he could feel your heat. Lips grazed along his thick neck, trailing up the throbbing vein, only taking a detour to drag your teeth along the protruding adam's apple, before finally finding purchase against his ear.

“Bini, I wanna know what you can do with those fingers.” Changbin felt you crotch settled against his. He knew he had to be imagining it, but he could almost feel your own throbbing against him. He was hard as a rock, though, and was certain you could feel it against your pussy. You grabbed his free hand, placed it against your neck where his fingers had just been coiled, lead him down the valley of your chest, down your stomach, to find the heat between your legs. Your were still wearing jeans, but he could feel the waves of warmth radiating from the spot you most wanted him.

Changbin didn't hesitate to roll you off of him, slamming your back to the seat of the couch, which elicited a giggle. His fingers made quick work of the button of your jeans, slid the zipper from its place, sliding the material down your hips. He knew he would get a chance to have your pretty pink lips wrapped around his cock, but he could wait. The idea of having you unraveled beneath him, hair messed, lips swollen, naked on your knees, that image toyed in his vision, and he knew that he would make sure it came to fruition. So, he would give you everything you wanted, satisfy every need, and wear you down, before he would ask to have his one wish fulfilled.

Changbin's fingers toyed over you heat, pressing against the cloth covering your swollen lips. He could feel the wet patch already on your panties, and he wasn't above teasing you about it.

“Baby girl, you already made yourself wet? Tell me if it was what that man said to you earlier?” You shook your head furiously to deny his accusation. “No, no way! It was you standing up to him for me. You looked,” a moan interrupted as Changbin pressed his fingers deeper into your still covered entrance, “looked so fucking sexy.” The last bit came out as a mere breath. Changbin happily watched as your chest heaved to catch up. “Bini, please touch me. I need your fingers inside me.” You desperately grabbed his wrist, pulling closer.

“Is that what had you all worked up in the car?” Realization dawned on Changbin. He could have slapped himself from how daft he had been. How could he have missed that you were turned on? He would more than make up for it now though.

“Yes-ahh...there.” Your voice was raised in pitch. One arm was thrown above your head as the other continued to draw him closer. Changbin watched with fascination as your body twisted beneath him.

He brushed the edge of your panties to the side, letting his fingertips slide along your dripping cunt, thirsty for his attention. His eyes flicked down to where his finger disappeared inside her, tongue flitting along his lips as he thought about how sweet your cunt would be. Your chest thrust forward, your own hands were tearing at your remaining clothes, struggling to free yourself from the confines. Changbin chuckled but did nothing to help, the sight threatened to tear him apart, but it was worth it. He slipped another finger inside and watched with amusement as your body twisted like a snake.

Changbin returned her favor by pressing his body against yours, taking it a step further to push you into the cushions of the couch, laying heavily on top of you. His lips brushed along the column of your throat, much the way you had done to him, nipping at the soft flesh just below your jaw, finally finding their way to the sensitive spot just behind your ear. You were moaning already and he wasn't even filling you up. Changbin smirked, his nose crinkling.

“Is that good enough baby girl?”

“Like hell it is!” You were clawing at Changbin's back, leaving bright red marks as your nails tried to sink into his flesh. Your hips were grinding against his hand, and you tried desperately to bury him deeper within. “Jesus, just fuck me with your fingers!” You groaned, head falling back as you were reduced to whimpers.

Changbin took the words to heart and thrust both fingers deep inside her, the palm of his hand pressed against her entrance. He twisted his fingers, wiggling them about tauntingly. But finally brought a sigh when his thumb rubbed against the little nub of your clit. While he knew he was far from an expert, and he might never be able to find the elusive “g-spot”, he did know that the clit was the closest thing to drive a woman crazy. His thumb pressed harder, which earned him a loud moan.

“How about now?”

“Yesss, like that.” Your eyes were closed and lips slightly parted. He could see that soft tongue held between her teeth.

Changbin took the opportunity to nudge your shirt over your chest, a blush crept over his cheeks as he watched your breasts rise and fall from the way his hand moved between your legs. He could feel your thighs occasionally tensing, coming closer before you consciously forced them to part to allow his hand to freely continue. Your chest was splattered with a dark pink blush, which climbed up your neck. Changbin's mouth connected with the curve of your breast, teeth crudely dragged along the tender skin, sucking hard, the spot turning a dark, angry red before a hint of purple appeared. He then moved to the other side, leaving a nearly identical mark in a spot slightly above where the first mirrored.

When he was satisfied with the marks, Changbin slipped his hand between your body and the couch, he struggled to find the clip of your bra as you did your best to still your body to help him out. Finally finding the clasp, Changbin separated the hooks until the article was loosely resting against your body, undone but trapped beneath the shirt you still donned.

Changbin slid one hand beneath the now useless bra, kneading your plump breast. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugged gently, then moved to the other side.

“Ugh!” You had finally gotten fed up with Changbin's slow ministrations and pushed at his chest to sit up and pull the clothing from your body. He watched as your t-shirt and bra joined your jeans on the floor. As soon as you were finished, he pushed you back down and attached his lips to your now exposed nipple. You whined at the feeling of his warm mouth engulfing your breast, while his hand worked on teasing the other nipple.

His tongue swirled around the rosy peak, wetting your nipple before he blew a stream of air directly onto the wet skin. This earned him a rough tug at his hair, but only caused him to smirk and nip at the skin.

As Changbin continued to toy with his catch, he could feel your legs begin to shake from the pressure of his fingers, your thighs tried to clamp around his hand. However, he settled further between your legs, forcing you to wrap them around his waist instead of closing around his hand.

“Tell me, baby girl,” his voice had dropped a couple notes, “do you want to come against my hand?”

You breathed in, ready to answer, when Changbin cut you off.

“If you say yes,” he nuzzled her neck, “this will be over so soon. I can't promise I won't finish if my cock is buried inside you. But,” he nipped at your skin, “I can keep going if you want?” Changbin smirked at the whine his words elicited. He knew you wanted more, knew he could go longer with you if it was wanted, and the way your body was grinding against his, he knew you wanted it.

As Changbin's fingers worked harder to bring you to a climax, he crushed his mouth to yours. He was so desperate to see your lips swollen and bruised because of him. He so badly wanted your lips, puffy from his kisses, wrapped around his dick. The image had him moving more roughly against your entrance, thumb pressed harder into your clit, and he suddenly felt you unravel against him.

“Yes, that's it. That's my good girl, come for me, baby.”

Changbin's voice was rough and had you whimpering as you fell apart from his fingers.

As your heartbeat returned to a less erratic pace, Changbin pressed a more gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Do you want more? Do you want to tell me what you want from me now? Or do you want me to guess?”

“Changbin, you are incorrigible.” You scoffed. He chuckled.

“Sit up.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you to sit up.”

Changbin moved away so you could do just that. You watched him as he knelt onto the floor in front of you, then turned you to face him, parted your legs, and moved between them. He tugged at your panties, dragging the clothing off your body. His eyes went back to the dripping treat before him. His tongue flicked over his lips in anticipation.

Finally realizing what Changbin was going to do, your hands hungrily grabbed at his locks, pulling him closer to your already soaking core. Changbin chuckled as he happily obliged. His lips locked onto your pussy, instantly lapping up the juices that had spilled already. His eyes rolled back as he tasted her salty, sweet cum.

“Fuck..” Changbin groaned, the vibrations sending sweet waves throughout your body. You relaxed deeper into the couch, one hand tangled in Changbin's hair as the other played with your own tits. You occasionally urged him closer, and other times pulled sharply at his hair.

Changbin's arms encircled your hips, drawing them upwards, allowing him to bury his face deeper between your legs. His tongue fervently delved deeper inside, making his way as deep into your core as he could reach. The muscle twisting and pressing against your walls desperate to bring you pleasure. He felt your hips grind against him, causing him to groan loudly.

Changbin seldom found himself eating a girl out, but never failed to enjoy doing so. This time, though, he was feasting as if his life depended on it.

He withdrew his tongue to tease your lips with his teeth, scraping them along the sensitive skin, tugging and nipping.

“Biiinni, please...god.” you gasped.

He continued to suck and reburied his tongue inside of you, wishing he hadn't already made plans for himself, so he could bury his cock so far inside of you that you would be feeling him for days. Or more so, feeling the absence of him. He wanted to make sure you would remember how he felt buried inside. But, he promised himself he would do that next time, if there was going to be a next time.

This time, he would try to make you come as hard as you could with his mouth.

He swallowed you juices, not allowing anything to escape his thirsty trap, his tongue hungrily licking even the corners of his own mouth to contain the taste, not wanting to waste a single drop.

You fingers tore at his hair, leaving him looking as much of a mess as you felt. He drew your hips even closer, unsure how to eliminate the remaining space between you, wanting to become so close there was no distinction between you and him.

“S-stop...I'm...Bini...” You whimpered.

“Come on, you can come for me again.”

“It's...ah, it's too much!!”

“It's okay, baby girl. Good girl, yes like that.”

He could feel your walls closing around his tongue, more of that thick fluid sliding down his throat, covering his lips and dribbling down his chin. When your hips stuttered against him, body slumped forward, he knew he finally had you spent.

Changbin crawled back over you, and kissed you roughly, shoving his tongue between your lips, letting you taste yourself from his mouth.

“How are you doing, baby girl?”

“Fuck Changbin...” Your arms lazily wrapped around his neck. He could feel your hips gently push against his thigh.

“Use your words, baby girl. Do you want more?”

“Bini,” your eyes were a bit hazy as you looked up at him through heavy lids, “You never told me what you wanted.”

“Not until I know you can't take anymore. I want to know you are satisfied.” He gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. “Tell me what else I can do for you.”

“You can tell me what you want.” Your lips made way to his neck, suckling roughly. He could feel your heated chest against his own. Both your breathing was rough. “Tell me, Changbin, please?” You whispered against his ear. He groaned as his resolve cracked.

“I will tell you, if you promise you will let me know if you can handle more after I tell you?”

“I promise.”

Changbin groaned, he pulled away to meet your eyes. He loved the way you looked so thoroughly fucked. Your hair could have been a bit messier, but he was willing to fix that problem. Your lips were red and swollen from his kisses, but also slightly cracked from the way your teeth dug into the skin as he had you coming the second time.

“Okay, I want,” he leaned in close to whisper in your ear, “you on your knees as your pretty lips swallow my dick whole. I want to watch as I fuck your face. I want you to look up at me as tears fill your beautiful eyes while you choke on my dick. But, I want you so fucked out and helpless as you look up at me. Do you think you can be a good girl and do that for me, baby?” His fingers were closed around your throat, thumb rubbing along the length. “Do you think you can do that for daddy?”

Your eyes went wide. “Fuck.” The word was a mere hiss.

When you pushed against him, Changbin felt his heart drop. He was sure you would be turned off and disturbed by his request. However, it stopped for a full second before hammering into overdrive as you settled on her knees in front of him.

“Like this?” There was a brief pause, tongue nervously flicked out, as you hesitated, “Daddy?”

Changbin let out an audible groan at the word. He rarely liked to be called that, but the way you had looked up at him with those innocent eyes earlier, all he wanted was to hear you submit to him just like this.

“That's a good girl.” He muttered as he slid to the edge of the couch, guiding you closer to him. You reached out to finish opening his pants. The leather was cool against your sweating palms, you found yourself rubbing your hands up and down his thighs. “You're probably going to be the death of me.” Changbin growled, fingers twisting in the locks of your hair.

“Good.” You mumbled, hands still fumbling with his pants. “Because I'm pretty sure you killed me at least twice, and I want payback.” You glanced up, a smirk across your lips.

Changbin pulled roughly at your hair, eliciting a yelp. “Just be a good girl and suck me off already.”

“Yessir.” you taunted.

You finally peeled back the leather pants, sliding them along with his boxers down to his knees. A fairly loud gasp came from you as you finally took in his full erect cock.

“What is it?” Changbin worried his bottom lip with his teeth, fearing you were going to be unimpressed. He was sure he had thoroughly satisfied you, and now he was so close to the heaven he was a patient good boy for, and you weren't going to give in because he was less than you expected. He knew he wasn't the biggest in that area, but he was fairly confident he was endowed enough to please a woman. He had been told once or twice that he was surprisingly good. He had also been turned down a small handful of times after a girl had gotten him out of his pants.

“You're so...” your voice trailed off as you took his penis into your hands, using both to encircle his thickness.

“So....?”

Your eyes flicked up to him and you smiled sweetly. “Are you worried?”

“Fuck yes, just tell me.”

“Or,” you leaned in, “I can show you?”

Not giving him time to reply, you enclosed him into your mouth. He watched as your eyes widened, mouth stretching to accommodate his size. He felt you run your tongue along the bottom of his length, sending his back arching, eyes fluttered shut when it came to swipe along the tip.

“How was that?” You whispered as you released him with a pop.

“So good.” He met your eyes again and continued to watch as you returned to bring him into your mouth, one hand wrapped around the base, holding him steady so you could bob your head up and down along him. Your tongue swirled around him, as much as possible, as you struggled to keep him inside. You paused a few times to breathe in deeply, but would always take him back in.

He watched as a single tear drop rolled down your cheek, reached up to brush it away with his thumb, brought it to his mouth and sucked the drop away. You looked so good taking him as well as you could. God he could watch your head bouncing up and down all day. He enjoyed the way you pulled away to tentatively poke out your tongue and lick his head like a lollipop, then sucked away the leaking precum.

“D...daddy?” You mewled, your nails dug into his thighs, he could tell you were somewhat nervous.

“What is it, baby girl?” He choked on the words.

“Am I doing okay? A-are you enjoying this?”

“More than I could tell you.” He stroked your cheek for just a second before pulling you back onto his throbbing cock. His hips jolted forward before you were fully settled, and something about the strangled sound coming from your throat, the way your throat closed around him, had him groaning in rapture. He continued thrusting in, watching you desperately try to keep up with him. Your body moved up, hands gripped his thighs tightly, as you tried to move with each thrust.

Changbin's head rolled back on the edge of the couch as his hips drove deeper into your mouth. His hands were both buried in her hair, tugging you down while holding you as still as possible. The sight of your drool spilling down your chin, soon to be mixed with his cum, had him circling the edge. He wanted to feel more, have your teeth against the sensitive skin, have you whimpering, have you shamelessly moaning his name as you took him deeper. His hips stuttered to a halt as he finally exploding in your mouth.

He looked down to see the way the white beads dribbled down your jaw, your tongue flicked out to catch what you could, the back of your hand wiping away what you couldn't. Your eyes never broke contact with his as you did so.

He reached down to capture your jaw, holding you in place as he slid down to kneel in front of you. As you maintained eye contact, he leaned in, your bodies pressed together, his lips made contact with yours in a soft, but searing kiss. Changbin held you in his arms, refusing to let go until he had his fill.

You finally pushed at his chest, giggling as you did so. “Bini, stop! That's ticklish!”

“What is?” He pulled away, a giggle bubbling up from him as well.

“Your hair! I can feel it all over my face.”

“Ah, is that so?” He leaned in, rubbing his hair against your face. “How is this?” He was still giggling as he pulled you closer, unwilling to part just yet.

“Yesss!!!” You pushed at his chest, but found yourself wrapping your hands around his arms. Your giggles slowly turned into soft moans. “Bin, ah...” Your forehead was pressed against him. “I um...I enjoyed that. Doing that with you.”

“Me too.” He left a quick peck on your lips.

“I have a secret.” your voice was almost too low to hear, but Changbin managed to pick up on the words.

“What's that?”

“I might have suggested to Wooyoung to switch partners. I uh...I was hoping I'd get to work with you, but Sooyoung told me that you and Wooyoung always worked together. I never thought we'd do this. But, you're so cute that I wanted the chance to work with you.”

A low rumble came from Changbin's chest as he began to laugh. “You manipulated Wooyoungie to convince the professor to split us up, because you knew he would pair you and me if Wooyoung decided to follow his dick, because you wanted to just work with me? Without expectations?”

“I mean, I wouldn't say there were no expectations. Of course I was hoping it would come to....something like this. But, it wasn't like I would be disappointed if it didn't?”

“Does Wooyoung know you think I'm cute?” Changbin nuzzled your neck.

“Um, no. Only Sooyoung does.”

“If Sooyoung knows, than Chan knows. You are aware of that, right?”

You groaned. “No..ugh. He will find no end in teasing me if he ever finds out we did this. So, don't tell him.”

“That's going to be hard. Pretty sure he already knows that I was...more than interested in you. And also, he's going to be the first to know when we fuck somewhere in the Language Arts building.”

“Uh, what?”

“Oh yeah. You didn't think I was going to be done with you after one night, did you? Hell nah. I'm going to make sure I have made sure you are never going to be fulfilled by another man before I let you get away from me.” Changbin held you closer. “I might even wait until we are both old and wrinkly. There is a teachers' bathroom on the third floor that no one actually ever uses. I will probably have to suck off Chan to get the code for it, but I think it'll be worth it. That's probably how he'll find out I'm banging you in there. But, it is definitely going to be worth it.”

“Wait, why are you the one sucking off Chan?”

“Because there is no way I'm going to let you near him until I know you are done for other men, duh.”

“Wait, is that what Wooyoung told Chan that you were bitching about the other day?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“You are-”

“Sexy? Amazing? The cutest?” Changbin flashed a dazzling smile.

“Yes. All of those things.” You stretched in Changbin's arms. “But, it is also really late, and I should get back, now.” You pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I didn't drive myself to the party, and I am sure Sooyoung will be worried about me.”

Changbin scoffed. “Sooyoung is definitely not worried about you.”

“Why would you say that?” You looked worried, and slightly upset.

“Because she knew damn well that Wooyoung had forced me to go to that stupid party. She never would have left you alone for that long if she didn't suspect that I would end up taking you home. And, your phone hasn't gone off this whole time. You really think she doesn't know that I have you?”

“Okay, those are all reasonable. But also, suspicious. And rude. Wow, she really just abandoned me so you could shoot your shot. What an asshole.”

“Yeah, I mean that sounds exactly like something Sooyoung would do. I am just surprised Chan hasn't started bitching me out for bringing you here? Anyway, you're staying here tonight, because tomorrow I am going to show you what this dick can really do.”

“Uh, we are supposed to start working on our assignment this weekend? And don't think I've forgotten that you lied to me about being busy with Wooyoung all weekend.”

“That!! Was a lie, I admit. But, I promise to make up for it.” Changbin's nose scrunched cutely. You pushed him away, tried to crawl farther away, but Changbin followed, whining.

“Nah, don't look at me like that. And find me some clothes. I am filthy because of you.”

#Changbin #Seo Changbin #Changbin Smut #Seo Changbin Smut #Stray Kids Smut #Stray Kids #SKZ Smut #SKZ #minors DNI #minors not allowed #kpop by jade #changbin x reader #stray kids x reader

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bluecookies02 · 4 years

Text

When they make you cry

pairings: Hawks x Reader, Dabi x Reader, Bakugou x Reader, Aizawa x Reader, Izuku x Reader, Tamaki x Reader

Tamaki, Bakugou and Hawks are in a female!reader perspective, the rest of them are Gender Neutral

warnings: angst to fluff

masterlist

Hawks will get cocky, laughing in your face when he sees your shocked expression.

Both of you were going at each others throats, spitting insults to one another, just your recent daily routine.

Now Hawks knew you were a tough gal, which in his head made it alright for him to strike a really painful nerve into your chest.

As you remained speechless he turned around, a winning smirk plastered on his lips.

Just as he took a few steps forward, sobs wrecked your body as you hid your face in your hands.

"I d-don't think I can take this anymore Keigo" your broken voice reached his ears.

A pang of guilt pierced his chest once he turned around to face you.

He did this. He made you cry. He completely drained your happiness out. He hurt you.

His teeth dug into his lip, his eyes stinging as tears picked at them.

At that point, he didn't give two shits about who's right and who's wrong, his arms reaching for you and wrapping themselves around your shaking form.

He held you there for a while, listening to your cries that gradually turned into soft sniffles against his chest.

"I-" He opens his mouth but his words remained stuck at his throat.

"I don't want us to end..." you mumbled, your own words throwing you into another sobbing fit.

"We won't end here kid, I've got you...shit...I'm a fucking idiot...of course we won't end sweetheart...c'mon look at me" he raised your chin up gently, looking into your red eyes.

"I'm sorry, fuck I'm sorry...not just for today, for every day before this, I-, God... don't leave kid, p-please"

You stared at his face, tears now streaming down his cheeks as his grip on you tightened.

You swallow the lump in your throat, grabbing his hands in yours.

"Something has to change Keigo...I miss you...we've been distant for months. Sometimes you don't even come home to me, do you know how that feels?"

"I know, I know, I swear... I miss you too. I'll tell you about everything I promise. Let's go home please."

You hesitantly nod, putting your heart on the line for the last time.

And now looking back, you're glad you did.

//quirk: flesh manipulation (the reader can manipulate the molecules in a person's flesh just by touching it, making them useful mid-battle to make the other heroes ready to fight again in a matter of seconds, but also making them a threat to their enemies )

If there was one thing he despised about you, it was your guts.

Hell curse him for falling in love with someone so stubborn.

To live through a relationship with Dabi meant that you had to have though skin. You had to be strong enough to bite your cheeks and endure the issues that people in regular relationships never face.

He enters your home, covered in bruises and cuts, asking for your first aid kit.

You sigh to yourself, your usual nagging and yelling never reaching his ears.

You place the first aid kit onto your bedside table, turning your back to him, tiredly walking out of the room.

"Hey-" his voice calls out to you, quiet and confused.

You close the door behind you, making your way to your couch.

One of these days it'll be the last time he walks into your home, the last time you help him clean his cuts and the last time you hear his voice.

The weight of uncertainty pulls at your chest harder with every passing day.

He chose to continue living like this, he is the one that keeps ruining his own life, it's his ambitions that are making you this miserable.

Once he patches himself up, he sits on your bed for a while. Your silance meaning one thing and one thing only. You finally realized how pointless being with him is, you finally got it through your thick skull that he's nothing special to dwell about.

Time passes by quickly, a few hours already gone yet he's still glued to the same spot, not having the strength to leave your room, too scared to face your rejection once he gets out.

He should be happy for you, you won't be hurting anymore, you'll be able to find someone better.

He slowly twists the knob, taking slow steps through your living room.

You are laying on your couch, tear stains on your face and a tissue crumbled in your hand.

His chest tightenes at the sight. You cried yourself to sleep. He wonders... how many times did you cry over him? How many times would you just lay here as he carelessly roamed the streets?

He should leave...he should spare you the pain he brings. You were the only good thing in his life and by continuing this he'll ruin you, piece by piece.

You showed nothing but kindness to him, you made him realize that some people are worth getting close to, you being a hero also making his resolves shake under his feet.

He stretched his arm out to your cheek, careful not to wake you up.

He left a soft kiss to your temple before leaving your house.

-----

You woke up to a persistent ring of your doorbell.

You felt terrible...your hair was a mess, your nose was all clogged up and your eyes burned from all the crying.

You opened your door with annoyance, mad at whoever decided to burst your sadness bubble.

"Hey doll, I would've let myself in but my hands are kinda busy"

Your boyfriend stood there with a backpack on his shoulder and a carton box in his hands.

"So...do you happen to have a room to spare for a year or two...maybe three?"

You stare in disbelief your hand covering your mouth.

"I know that me being a villain might be a setback but...I got some hair dye? I might even consider letting you fix my jigsaw face."

Your body crashed into his, the box dropping to the ground as you squeezed your arms around him.

Maybe he can make you as happy as you make him.

You knew he was rough around the edges, but you never even imagined that you would be the one his rage would be directed at.

As soon as insults came crashing your way you left the room.

You were just trying to calm him down, placing your hand on his shoulder as you urged him to stop shouting and just let it go.

His rough hands grabbed yours, throwing your hand away like you were a mere fly, his quirk burning your skin.

You tried calling out to him just for him to snap around and scream at you.

Once you reached your dorm tears freely rolled down your cheeks.

You yearned for a normal relationship, longed for some peace and quiet just for a week or two.

Yet you just couldn't let the blonde go, always hoping for some miracle to come your way and take ahold of his ego.

--------

It's around 2 am and he can't fall asleep for the hell of it.

You're not picking up his calls nor answering his texts and you've been inactive on social media for hours.

Kirishima has been urging him to go to your dorm for two hours already, spamming him massages about him not being manly enough to win you back.

It's not like he doesn't want to, he just has no idea how to. Should he get you something? Get you some food and flowers? Where the fuck can he find all these things at 2 am? Isn't that how people in movies apologize or something...

He hates when you're mad at him, he is scared shitless of actually scaring you off and pushing you away.

A knock at your door snaps you out of your thoughts and a small flame of hope warms your heart for a split second as you make your way to your door.

He's holding a gray hoodie and a pair of bento boxes.

"That's not gonna fix it Katsuki."

"I know shitty woman you didn't even give me a chance to speak!"

You're sure that that's the first time Bakugou said the word "sorry" in his whole life.

The way it rolled off his tongue was shaky but somewhat determined, his hand grabbing ahold of yours gently.

Guilt was evident on his face as he stroked the bandages covering your hands.

"It's not that bad Katsu, and I understand that it was an accident." you mumbled trying to pull from his grip so he can focus on something else.

He grabbed ahold of your wrists, bringing your palms to his lips.

"I'll work on it, I promise. It'll never happen again. I mean it." you just give a soft nod, leading him to the table.

"Good. Now let's eat, breakfast is the most important meal of the day!" you cheered, opening the bentos and stuffing your mouth with rice.

"Y/N...it's 4 am."

"Exactly, now eat, you're not gonna let me eat all of this by myself?!"

For this man, it was close to impossible to make his s/o cry.

He cherishes the relationship he has with you, making you feel special every single day at a time.

So when he sees you crying, he's confused and alarmed.

He reaches for you, trying his best to give you the comfort he thinks you need.

When you push his hands away and scream at him...Oh boy...

He's terrified.

Did he do something? Did he forget your anniversary? Your birthday? Did he eat your snack from the fridge??

You're pulling at the strands of your hair, your head buried into your knees as you sob.

He looks around, eyes widening when he sees a photo of himself and some girl kissing on the screen of your phone.

He wasn't there? He has proof! He was in a meeting! All of his colleagues could confirm that, he just needs you to listen! Please listen to him.

He's talking...blabbering...begging for you to just look at him.

As soon as you look up for a split second, he's hugging you, smothering your face in kisses as you weakly try to push him away.

Finally he leans his forehead against yours, letting out a long sigh of relief when he realizes that you're not crying anymore.

"Please Shouta, please, if you even have any respect for me, don't lie to me." you mumble out coldly, turning your head from him.

"Y/N, I would never, ever do that to you! Never! I love you so much, please, you have to know that, you do know that!"

You're too stubborn, but he calls all of his colleges one by one, putting them on speaker for you, asking about the time of the meeting or details of the meeting and they all have the same answer.

So now, your throat is dry and there's a lump in your throat, guilt eating at you as you try to apologize.

He couldn't give two shits about any of that, all he has to know is that you're okay and that you're still his.

He's not letting you go for the rest of the day, you're wrapped under the blankets with him as he makes sure you never believe the bullshit you see online.

"Sweetheart if I ever cheat on you, that's the day I cut my own dick off and bleed to death."

It makes you giggle and then laugh hysterically and he's just looking at you with the biggest heart eyes 🥺

Izuku would never do anything to make you cry.

He pays attention to every single detail in your relationship and he especially pays attention to your feelings.

What he is really bad at, is taking care of himself.

He doesn't take in consideration how you feel when he comes home all stitched up and tired, or how he stays up late to train and push himself further than his body can take.

However one day, he is exhausted from his training and he barely has any strength left. His phone rings and he is rushing out the door, already panting.

You don't reach him in time to stop him, so here you are, hours later next to his hospital bed.

The villain wasn't too powerful, but his state caused him to pass out in the middle of the bettle field.

As soon as he wakes up, you're yelling at him, but at the same time sobbing against his chest.

"I can't just stand here and watch you hurt yourself Zuku... I can't, I can't, I can't....O-one of these days you're just gonna slip away from my hands, I can't. Please" You're grip on him softens as you loose the strength in your hands.

His arms wrap themselves around you, trying his best not to flinch as you rub against his bandages.

His eyes are watering, realization dawning on him as he holds your tired body against him.

You're right...He sees the state of himself after a lowlife villain with a pathetic quirk sent him into the hospital. He doesn't even want to think about what would've happened if there was someone much stronger out there.

"Hey Y/N...I-...I might take a week off, to rest yeah? Does that sound good?"

You nod, wiping away the tears as you sniffle.

"And you won't be training at night anymore. And you won't be staying up late!" you scold as he rubs your cheeks.

"I won't. I promise." he places a kiss at your temple, pulling you onto the hospital bed next to him.

"Let's sleep for a bit yeah? I might owe you a few hours..."

You're crying, he's crying.

He's down on one knee and he's stuttering, his hands shaking as he hears you cry out a happy "Yes".

He barely gets the ring on your finger, burying his head into your neck as soon as he gets to his feet.

You always thought that he was going to propose to you at home, maybe some homecooked dinner with roses and candles. You didn't mind that option either.

You were surprised that he even suggested a walk in the park.

I mean, it was a really small park with little to no people in the area but it was beautiful nonetheless.

You're all giddy and happy as he takes your hand in his, his eyes always glancing at the ring on your finger.

Once you spot an ice cream stand you leap in happiness, rushing to get ice cream for the both of you.

The lady selling it smiles brightly at you.

"Is that the lucky guy?" you nod grabbing your icecream as Tamaki hides behind you.

"Good job sweetheart, you're making this lady very happy, I can feel it in my old bones" you laugh at her remark as you nudge Tamaki forward.

She hands him his ice cream and winks at him.

He's blushing and thanking the lady before running off to an empty bench.

”He’s a lil’ shy but he's got the spirit” you say to the lady as you rush off to get him.

You take the time to really study the ring, the beautiful blue crystal shining in the sun.

”I...I hope you l-like it...Nejire helped me out. Uhm I probably shouldn't have said that...S-she-"

"I like it Tama...I love it actually" you place a gentle kiss just at the corner of his lips, his hands grabbing your cheeks and kissing you deeply in return.

His cheeks are warm and his lips are slow against yours but you melt against him, letting him place you in his lap.

"Oh my God, I have a fiancé, oh my God, I have to call Mirio and tell him you said yes. You said yes, right?"

You laugh as you shake your head at him, playing with his hair as he fumbles with his phone.

All of the pictures are from the original anime/manga (please do correct me if I'm wrong in the comments below)

The Tamaki one has no angst in it because I had to heal from all of the emotional rollercosters.

___________

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tsukiida · 3 years

Text

honey — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; fluff & humour ; 6.04k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; reader’s pov ; scheming friends ; dumbass!reader ; slight cussing ; confessions.

— synopsis :: if there’s one thing that you have in common with bakugou katsuki, it’s obliviousness to the other’s feelings. a haunted house is the best place to resolve misunderstandings.

— note :: it’s been a while; I finally finished this!! :D it’s a continuation to bakugou’s “pining”, and I’d suggest reading that first for the full experience™ but there are hints dropped throughout “honey” to give you an idea of what happened! I hope y’all like this! :)

quite honestly, you've got to be the biggest idiot possible.

really, you had the best chance.

it’s not like confessing to bakugou katsuki would be that bad, right? the most he’d do is turn you down with a scoff and then go back to pretending you don’t exist while chasing his heroic dreams.

he’s not big on humiliating people unless they’re— a: aspiring heroes, or b: midoriya izuku.

he definitely wouldn’t lord it over your head and tease you about it.

kaminari really gave you the best opportunity to get things out in the open!

and you let it slip through your fingers like an idiot.

furthermore, you really did also say that you have absolutely no romantic interest in the explosive pretty boy. you acted like the idea of harboring any feelings towards him shocked you. you also acted like he was the weird one for thinking you liked him.

while having a raging crush on him which really makes your heart beat and bounce around in your ribcage as if getting a firsthand taste of his quirk.

have you mentioned that you’re an idiot?

right, you have done that enough times, so maybe the next step is to explain why.

you’d been out running an errand when you’d come across midoriya izuku.

midoriya; the only other quirkless student in your year, in junior high. you’d never talked much to him, but you’d felt a sense of camaraderie with him whenever you saw him. the school was small enough that you could count the number of quirkless people on one hand.

you and deku were included in that number.

the only reason why you didn’t get picked on for the reasons he did was because you never wanted to be a hero.

and you avoided bakugou katsuki like the plague.

to be honest, you hated him at first.

you’d seen it all, but hadn’t been able to do anything other than giving midoriya a few words of comfort which felt hollow to your own ears. you still blamed yourself a little for having never helped him properly.

you loathed bakugou for being as powerful as he was, as arrogant and stuck up as he was, and for being the petty bully who really thought he was better than someone just because of a quirk.

you were bitter. not because you didn’t have a quirk, but because people like him made people like you feel like you weren’t worth anything.

that’s why, when you chanced upon midoriya after such a long time, you were elated.

you were so happy when you found out that he really did have what it takes to be a hero.

if you deliberately ignored bakugou, then that’s entirely on him and not on you.

you won’t be taking responsibility for things that aren’t your fault.

…you were also wary of him.

you didn’t want him to blow you up if you so much as smiled at him.

not that he deserved seeing your smile anyway.

that’s what you told yourself right in the beginning. and that’s what came to bite you in the ass, because some days you have to do your best to conceal your smile at the mention of the stupid explosive boy’s name.

he really does scare you, you didn’t lie about that. but despite that, your brain thinks that it’s fun to get flustered over someone who scares you. just a little bit! he’s losing that scariness rapidly in all situations except when you’ve seen him in action as a budding hero. you just get worried that he’s going to take one look at you and decide that you’re getting in his way, a nuisance to everyone, and whatever else he can think of you.

in all honesty, you’re aware that he was an idiot in middle school, and the majority of his issues stemmed from his convoluted relationship with midoriya. if midoriya himself can forgive him, then you don’t really have a reason to hold grudges. and you know he’s grown. he’s matured to an extent you never expected from him, but perhaps that’s how he goes through life.

exceeding expectations is something he’s great at.

and he’s grown into someone wonderfully inspiring, if not intimidating.

—juuuust a little!

…

uraraka finds out first.

you love that girl, but you could do without her knowing about your embarrassing crush on one bakugou katsuki.

if only she’d actually helped you out, instead of teasing you subtly to the point that you couldn’t even stay in the same room as bakugou—to the point that you vehemently denied any sort of interest in him when midoriya innocently brought up the other boy in a conversation.

it becomes a reflex to avoid anything related to bakugou and romance in the same space. which is how you landed yourself in the mess with kaminari.

so you’re going to blame uraraka. she’s definitely at fault! it’s not your wimpy self to blame!

“uraraka,” you end up mumbling into the phone, rocking back and forth while hiding your face against your knees, wishing to be swallowed whole.

“uraraka, i told kaminari that i don’t like him.” despite having promised yourself that you won’t bring the whole thing up with her, you can’t help it. she’s still your precious friend that you’re very fond of, and the same friend who wrangled out from you all of your embarrassing opinions of him.

“uraraka, he’s going to hate me now. he’s going to think i don’t think he’s cool or strong, or whatever else that might hurt his pride. he’s going to completely stop paying attention to me now!”

you may claim that you blame her, but you’re aware that she’s not at fault. she always tries hyping you up when you’re nervous and comforts you when you’re down. perhaps you’re taking advantage of her kindness, but you really don’t want to be left alone with your thoughts. and it really is her fault for being so encouraging when it comes to dealing with your feelings for bakugou katsuki.

so when your friend just wordlessly hums in response for the third time, your fingers clench in your hair and you let out a frustrated sigh. raising your pitch obnoxiously, you whine, “uraraka!”

“i love you, but if you call my name like that one more time i will tell deku.”

you freeze, not sure if she means telling him about your not-so-little crush, or merely the fact that you like singing uraraka’s name. she laughs mischievously, clearing up your confusion much too quickly, prompting you to let out frantic apologies and make her promise that she won’t let the cat out of the bag.

“really, though,” you mumble, “he didn’t even remember me. he asked me if i was messing with him using my quirk. i had to tell him i was quirkless and then deal with his anger.”

that gets her attention in an entirely different manner. she sounds positively incensed when she asks you why it matters if you’re quirkless, and you give her reasons that sound weak to your own ears.

“and how are you messing with him?”

that leads to you telling her about one of your earlier interactions with bakugou, back when you’d first started being friends with midoriya’s class. you mention how you were about ready to pass out when bakugou’s question registered in your mind and you had to tell him you were quirkless, before you’re back to bemoaning the conversation with kaminari.

and something clicks.

not in your brain.

but in uraraka’s.

…

it’s not just you avoiding bakugou.

bakugou avoids you like the plague.

the sensible part of you is relieved, but another, bigger and dumber, part of you is hurt. of course he’d avoid you if his friend asked you if you liked him, and you said you didn’t.

but ouch, you really didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

not that something like this should even matter to him, right? maybe it’s you who’s suddenly noticing that he avoids you, because now you have a reason to fixate on rather than trying to lie to yourself that bakugou is not entirely indifferent to you. he really has no reason to pay attention to you.

it all makes sense, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling saddened every time bakugou blatantly ignores you. nor does it stop you from going out of your mind wondering why kaminari, too, seems to avoid you at all costs. it’s not like you said you didn’t like him!

yes, it makes sense perfectly. but not to you.

it makes absolutely no sense to you.

…

midoriya’s advancing steadily in his hero career with uraraka’s help, because the latter convinces you to come meet up with the two of them on a rare day out, and the former conveniently drags bakugou out too.

really, such heroics, all for a friend’s pathetic love life? how heartwarming.

you’re still in shock at how easy it was, and god, you don’t want to think about the implications, with the way bakugou’s eyes flit from one to the other when he’s not looking at you.

you also don’t want to admit that you’re stealing glances out of the corner of your eye at the blond when you don’t feel his eyes boring into you.

talk about awkward.

you’ve always been enamoured by how smart bakugou actually is, but it works against you when he corners you after uraraka and midoriya mysteriously vanish under the guise of training.

(that too at an arcade, because gaming supposedly helps achieve better reflex. why is a quirkless person with no interest in being a hero even invited to this outing? one will never know. the only games being played here are with your frayed self-control.)

“oi, if you’re gonna avoid me, don’t be so obvious about it.”

“a—? avoid you?” you practically squeak, and his annoyance seems to increase. there’s something else that you can’t really put a finger to. you’d say he almost looks agitated? but there’s nothing to agitate himself over…

…unless he still thinks you’ve got a raging crush on him.

“nope!” you hastily respond before realising he’s not even said anything to you, but hey, it’s as good an answer to his complaint about you avoiding him.

why’s he complaining, anyway? shouldn’t he be glad no one’s getting in his way?

you ask as much, and he all but growls, words escaping him as you take a step back. bakugou is more susceptible to dramatics than one would think. you used to find it funny, but when such behaviour is aimed at you, you’re not sure how to respond.

“you think you can actually get in my way?” he bursts out, and you make a show of thinking about it, when internally every single one of your brain cells is rioting, self-composure in shambles as you’re rudely made aware of how little distance is between the two of you.

that’s fine, you’re strong, you’re not going to be weak in the face of bakugou katsuki’s incredibly attractive glower.

no, you’re not whipped, thank you very much, to the uraraka-shaped devil materialising in your mind.

ah, back to the matter at hand. it’s not possible for quirkless little you to get in his way, is it?

anyway—

“aren’t you the one avoiding me?” you’re going to try and turn this situation around on him even if it means confronting things you don’t want to.

he scoffs in disbelief, but by that time you’ve worked up the courage to look at him, and you see the look in his eyes. you’ve spent enough time around him to know what that means, even if you barely ever look at him. he looks like he’s been caught, and isn’t that the funniest little thing?

he notices the twitch of your mouth, his own eyes narrowing as it’s your turn to be caught now.

“kaminari,” bakugou says in lieu of a response, and your heart jumps in your throat. you don’t mind dropping a subject if he doesn’t plan on grilling you on it too—changing the subject would be great, but he just picked one even worse than the last!

“he’s stupid, don’t pay attention to him.”

“uh huh, he sure is,” you laugh nervously. if you’d had your bearings about you, you’d never have said that. as it is, your mind is still shaken up and hoping that he doesn’t catch on to the fact that you are the stupid one.

you’re also very busy battling a smug uraraka and shouting at incompetent old you for swooning in the face of your biggest problem. and for, you know, missing that golden chance to confess without anxiety.

“look at me.”

nuh uh, nope, not possible. you’re not going to survive looking into his pretty eyes.

he lets out another frustrated sound, and you wait for him to blow up again—maybe even cause explosions. you wonder why he’s not been doing that lately.

he gets tired of your stalling, and surprises you by getting in your line of sight, locking eyes with you.

ah, impatience is such a gorgeous look on him.

…and you’re insufferable.

“i am not avoiding you. why would i, idiot? there’s nothing i need to avoid you for.”

you nod, not quite believing him, but you really want to just move on from this. a part of you wonders if you should come clean. but bakugou really doesn’t seem like he wants to hear anything about that. it’s in the way his eyes flit away momentarily and his expression sours, and in the way he seems to be pushing himself to hold onto some shreds of self-control.

all you can do is nod, really.

“where’s deku?”

you’re barely able to carry on the conversation, making some excuse or the other as to your missing friend(s), doing your best to act like you don’t have a clue either. if he finds your behaviour suspicious, bakugou doesn’t comment on it.

he does comment on something else. again.

“you don’t have to keep avoiding me just because of pikachu either.”

really? there’s nothing better for him to talk about? you thought you were past this! and calling kaminari ‘pikachu’ is not that smart!

“pikachu was cute…” you mumble. and you need to be louder, because you don’t want bakugou leaning in any closer to hear you.

the proximity is doing things to you.

things like making you forget that he probably hates your guts and doesn’t want to spend time with you, nor talk to you, at all. things like how he’s probably upset at being stuck babysitting you while midoriya and uraraka are off who knows where. things like making you discuss the cute factor of a magic ball–inhabiting yellow electric creature when bakugou clearly means the boy who almost outed your silly crush.

the boy who was giving you the best opportunity to confess!!!

if there’s one person who will never let you forget that, it’s your own self.

bakugou makes a sound that almost sounds like laughter, but there’s no way, right?

he shuffles back slightly, making it that much easier to breathe before he drops another bomb.

“school festival.”

you blink.

“it’ll be next month. make sure you’re free.”

oh. the stupid part of you is internally rejoicing, but since there is no way that he’d actually ask you to come—

“a-are you asking me to visit…?”

no no no, you didn’t mean to ask—

bakugou gives you a flat stare, and you gulp. so you were right for once.

you mull over it for a moment, the concrete under your feet extremely interesting before meeting his eyes again, “am i allowed to?”

“you practically live with us with how often i see you in the dorms. you think they’ll stop you now?” he snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s not as much bite to his words as one would expect.

he has a point.

but you can’t really see reason when every single cell of your body is screaming ‘IT’S A DATE’ over and over again.

you groan, before swallowing back the sound. uh oh, bakugou’s going to think you don’t want to—

“come when you can.”

hands in his pockets, he walks off as if he wasn’t just making you go through all stages of panic.

…

uraraka tells you why she vanished. she was simply being a ‘good friend’ and trying to get you and bakugou to reconcile. you politely tell her it wasn’t required, especially because there wasn’t much that happened.

except the fact that he asked you to turn up to the festival, so that’s nice, at least.

uraraka doesn’t react as expected, again, and she utters the cursed words that you never wanted to hear out loud. “aw, a date!”

“uraraka, no!”

but it’s too late. it’s been said and now you can’t think of anything else. you know it’s not a date, any sane person would know that, but you can’t stop thinking of that one stupid word and bakugou and the school festival and spending time with bakugou at the festival—

“uraraka… the festival— i’ll need to see him. i’ll see him having the time of his life while he’s in his element, i’ll see that infuriating face— i’ll have to spend time with him—”

“y/n,” uraraka gives you a look that’s the perfect amount of wary and pitying to make you embarrassed, but there are bigger things to worry about than your friend’s opinion of you.

“this is bakugou we’re talking about. he’s not that open about having fun unless it has something to do with murder.” the fact that he won’t be keen on spending time with you goes unsaid, but you know what she’s hinting at. “also, i don’t think you find his face as infuriating as you say.”

“still. bakugou katsuki. he… told me to— agh—”

and you’re back to square one, where the very mention of bakugou katsuki has you confused out of your mind because you don’t know how to act around him.

perfect.

…

time passes quicker when you’re hoping for the opposite, you find out when the days go by faster than you can blink. there’s just a week left before you have to see bakugou again, and it makes you nervous every time you think about it. which is a lot of times.

you’ve not seen the class in a while, since everyone told you they have a ‘surprise.’ you know they’re aiming to outdo their previous performance at the festival, you’re rooting for them. but without one of your main sources of entertainment, things haven’t been eventful.

except the conversation you have with kaminari over text, because of course he somehow procured your contact information and of course he felt like he had to make amends.

maybe you were expecting it because you were already on edge from when bakugou confronted you, but kaminari doesn’t beat around the bush and gets straight to the matter, which is quite unlike the last time you both talked. that time.

“haven’t got the chance to check in w/ u in a while, we’ve been crazy busy! i hope u’ve been well >:D” shifts to “we’re good, right?” sooner than you’d like, and you’re left staring at your screen in shock as you try to think of an innocuous response that doesn’t give away your true emotions.

kaminari is too quick, and he doesn’t even give you a chance to think of a lie before the next ping distracts you, leaving you staring at the latest message in horror; “blame bakugou! he’s the one who told us you like him! i’m really sorry! :(”

it’s nice of him to apologise, but you really have other things to think about.

like how it’s bakugou katsuki himself who apparently thought you had a crush on him.

he knew.

he knows.

he knows he knows he knows—

no, no, he doesn’t know. he can’t. maybe he was just suspicious.

and on the off chance that he does know, then of course. he’s smart. you’re stupidly obvious. of course he’d figure out.

but he doesn’t seem to hate you. he was the one who approached you every time! when he asked you to turn your quirk off, when he supposedly instructed kaminari to ask you if you liked him, and when he told you to visit for the festival.

you like to think that he’s just too busy training to even realise that you like him. you hope that’s the case. you can always come clean and admit that yes, you really do like him. but there’s also your lame excuse of a pride that remembers the unreadable expression on his face when he’d heard you then, before promptly leaving, the door shut slamming shut behind him.

perhaps it’s not your pride, but guilt. you don’t want to be annoying and get in his way. there are too many things going on in his life already, why would you want to add on to all of that with your silly lies? the same logic applies to a confession too, argues the part of you that lives and breathes denial.

looking at it from another perspective, bakugou likes the attention and admiration. maybe it would’ve been for the best if you’d just admitted—

it’s too late now, so the most you can do is type out a hasty response to kaminari before he suspects your silence.

“it’s totally ok. we’re good :DD will see you guys soon!”

it’s purely to hold yourself accountable and not weasel your way out of the inevitable trip, but kaminari’s enthusiastic response manages to bring a smile to your face.

…

the evening before the grand day, you call uraraka up before the jitters can defeat you. she doesn’t react much other than humming and speaking a few encouraging statements while you lament over your luck and try to subtly ask her how bakugou has been doing.

“i’m sure he’s… excited.” you can practically feel the smile gracing her lips, and you know she’s having fun at your expense. when does she not?

you know she’s also having fun when she calls you a whiny complainer and says bakugou would probably blow up if he knew even a bit of it, and you – predictably – complain more, blaming her for meddling and bringing you to this point.

bakugou doesn’t need to know about your penchant for whining when things don’t go your way. you think he’s only ever seen you smiling and speaking politely with everyone, if he’s even been looking. that’s good, you don’t want him to find you bothersome. you’ve been doing your best to appear sophisticated around him.

…

no amount of complaining and whining could prepare you for when bakugou turns around and grabs at your wrist.

bakugou’s too close again—things are suddenly eventful.

“too damn slow, are you trying to get lost?” he grumbles as he pulls you through the throng of people, and you smile weakly, internally telling yourself to get your act together and not let on how frazzled you feel at that moment.

you don’t know whether it’s your own skin heating up under his touch, or if his quirk is responsible. for a moment, it reminds you of when he asked you if you’re using your quirk on him. it’s sudden enough that it makes you snort under your breath before you catch yourself. he gives you a quizzical look out of the corner of his eye, and you shrug, smiling lightly. that sates his curiosity, and he looks ahead again as he moves towards a predetermined destination.

it’s a lot easier to deal with his hand against yours after that. eventually, he lets go, and you find yourself missing the warmth for a moment.

the warmth completely leaves you when you find yourself in front of—

“a haunted house.”

“congrats. we’re going in. let’s see how shitty it is.”

you get the sinking suspicion that he plans to rip everyone’s confidence to shreds, and you don’t want to be around for that, but he doesn’t give you a chance to protest. you’re not supposed to be overstaying your welcome or overstepping your boundaries either, so you resign yourself to following him around quietly and perhaps apologising to his victims if he goes too far.

you’re his only victim.

you only make your way through a few scares before you get the scare.

bakugou katsuki promptly turns to you, glaring. you, being the genius that you are, take a step away from him. this continues till you’re best friends with the wall, and you try not to panic at the feeling of something slimy now clinging to your shoulder.

how can you, anyway? you’ve got bakugou staring at you with a contemplative look, almost as if he’s looking into your very soul.

“you talked to the idiot.”

“there are many idiots,” you mumble, knowing full well which idiot he’s referring to. you hope kaminari hasn’t tricked you yet again. did bakugou put him up to that conversation— there are too many things you don’t feel you have in yourself to think about.

something changes, then, and he lets out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. he seems agitated, almost awkward, and you wonder why.

“you piss me off.”

huh? is he talking about how much you get in his way and bother him and make things hard for him and—

“kirishima told me.”

…did another person figure out about your crush? kirishima’s always seemed really sweet, and you don’t think he’s the kind that would deliberately spill any secrets. it wouldn’t be manly, right?

“he told me i should apologise.”

“huh?” you really can’t hold it in. why is he the one apologising? shouldn’t you…? and why is he apologising by telling you that you piss him off?

“he said i shouldn’t have put you on the spot and then avoided you. dunno why he thinks he has any say in the matter but you know what i realised? maybe you think like that too. maybe you’re,” he spreads apart his fingers before making a fist and scowling at it, “hurt. and you really did avoid me after that.”

you don’t say anything, still stuck on how constipated he’d looked just moments ago. you’re not supposed to be amused right now.

“oi, say something. aren’t you gonna deny it?”

still nothing.

“say something before i leave this place without you.” your incredulity shows on your face, and he huffs, “what do you want?”

“i… i don’t need an apology… everything’s okay…” it’s not, but you don’t want him to look further into this. there’s no point. “i’m not hurt, bakugou. there’s no reason for you to apologise.”

“then why’re you still acting so jumpy? i told you, just forget about what the electric idiot said and go on merrily through life. i told him not to bring it up with you again.”

“he said you told them i like you.”

he mutters something under his breath, no doubt cursing his friend out after you throw him under the bus. but he doesn’t let it affect him, straightening up again as he looks at you.

“miscalculation,” he shrugs, “i told them to drop it after you said you didn’t.”

“you believe me?” you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but it slips out before you can stop yourself.

“no shit. you telling me you lied?”

you gulp. all of a sudden, the slimy wall is so interesting!

“stop avoiding my eyes, dammit!” bakugou comments, frustrated, and you inhale sharply.

“stop making me so nervous, then!”

uh oh. you shouldn’t have said that. it’s the game changer.

“i make you nervous?”

you don’t answer, hoping he drops it. he doesn’t, and he repeats the question. still, you can’t crumble just because he looks impatient, and you shrug non-committally. something tells you that the situation is steadily turning against you.

”hey, tell me. i make you nervous?” his grin is absolutely roguish as he waits for you to answer.

you still don’t speak, telling yourself that you won’t rise to the bait, you won’t respond to him because you’ve said way more than you needed to—

“weakling,” he sing-songs, and your jaw clenches.

“being nervous around someone isn’t necessarily a sign of weakness, bakugou. sometimes it’s also a sign of being wise.” there goes your plan.

“hah, are you saying that you’re wise for being nervous and avoiding me? what am i gonna do, eat you?”

“i don’t know, maybe executive some explosive murderous strategies?”

“i wouldn’t do that,” he spits out, running a hand through his hair. why is every pore of him screaming agitation? “it’s no fun defeating you when we’re not even competing.”

“oh really? then what’s your idea of fun?”

“when you tell me i make you nervous even though i’m not doing anything.”

“aren’t you supposed to be apologising to me?”

he snorts, “never. i only told you what some idiot thinks. but i can understand why you avoid me, i make you nervous after all.”

his self-satisfied laughter infuriates you, yet makes your own lips twitch.

he lets out a put-upon sigh, and scuffles the floor with his shoe.

“me too, dumbass.”

“huh?”

“you make me nervous too, idiot.”

“huh?”

face mere centimetres away from yours, he lowers his voice to a whisper, “i’ll only say this once, so keep your ears open if you want to know. i miscalculated. i thought you had a thing for me because you didn’t meet my damn eyes always gave pretty answers whenever you talked to me. but you didn’t. i was…” he gulps before clearing his throat, sounding far too aggressive in that moment before he practically grits out: “projecting. i was projecting because i’m apparently into you.”

you stare at him speechlessly. try as you might, you can’t think of a response. you don’t even know what he means by the last bit. surely he couldn’t mean…? why you, of all people? but you’re worried he might leave, his threat from earlier still rings clear. so you resign yourself into taking his words at face value and admitting the truth.

no, it’s not resignation. it’s the resolve you’ve been lacking for a while now, finally coming together after hearing that from bakugou. even if this is a cruel prank, you’ll survive. you just need to get it out before it consumes you and ends up being a what-if, years down the line.

“you may have projected, but it wasn’t a miscalculation. it’s… not entirely… unreciprocated. the feeling is mutual, you could say.”

it’s out now, and you’re alright. the ground doesn’t swallow you up, bakugou katsuki doesn’t blast you headfirst into slimy walls. nothing happens. the moment remains suspended in time, or perhaps time is suspended in that moment.

bakugou’s eyes narrow as he mulls over your words. he glares at you again. it’s muted.

“if it’s reciprocated, shouldn’t you be doing your best to cling to me every chance you get?”

him being reasonable and quiet puts you at ease. the words come out more easily.

“shouldn’t you have done the same?” he scoffs at your question, but doesn’t offer a response, so you continue, ”bakugou, you know why you avoided me, and i know why i avoided you. i didn’t want to get in your way. and i didn’t want anyone else to catch onto it.”

“was deku in on it?”

you know how he’ll respond if he knows midoriya had an inkling before him, so you hastily dispel the suspicion from his mind.

“you said you don’t know me well.”

“bakugou, you didn’t even remember me when we first met,” you reason with him, and he scowls. “it applies to both of us; we really don’t know each other enough.”

taking a deep breath, you continue, “as for the rest of it, i panicked. i admit i didn’t deal with the conversation as well as i should’ve, and some of the things that i said weren’t the nicest. i know it was hurtful even to kaminari, but i couldn’t help it.”

bakugou scoffs, “if anyone’s hurting, it’s only him. not that he has any reason to be.”

you wince as you’re reminded of the texts the boy sent you. now that you’re thinking clearly, you feel slightly bad for having been cold to him, and lied. but there are bigger matters at hand.

“you actually remember that conversation?”

“no shit, why else would i ask?”

“but… why? why do you remember it? that makes me feel a little guil–ty…” you trail off as sparks fly off his fingers, the explosion possibly unintentional. it allows you to see his face clearly in the dark, and the red tint to his ears surprises you. he’s glaring at the wall, not meeting your eyes, and your heart promptly melts.

“aw, bakugou, i didn’t know you cared—”

“shut the hell up!”

you wait for him to calm down as he sets off more explosions, but the smile on your face refuses to leave. he doesn’t seem to mind it either even as he glares at you, because there’s no harshness in his eyes.

“this doesn’t mean we’re dating,” he eventually declares, and you raise an eyebrow. “i won’t spend my time on things like that. we like each other, big deal.”

“i just said whatever you feel is not entirely unreciprocated. who says i like you?” you ask in a rare show of humour as you roll your eyes teasingly. sobering up, you nod slightly, “you could’ve worded it better, but i understand what you mean.” you hold up a hand to stop him from interrupting you. “don’t worry, i have no intention of getting in the way of something you’ve wanted practically your entire life, bakugou. it’d be stupid of me. and i know neither of us are ready for that level of commitment yet. it’s enough if we— you know…” you look at him pointedly, not wanting to utter the words. but it’s bakugou katsuki, and he’s run out of patience from after all the teasing you’ve subjected him to.

“it’s enough if we what—? tell me, i don’t know.” he leans in again, the petty side of him thriving. you’re starting to get used to his proximity; it’s what you tell yourself but you barely stop yourself from averting your eyes.

“i’m just saying it’s enough if we like each other. we can get to know each other slowly and that’s it. we don’t need to jump into something that has a low success rate in the first place.” he gives you an incredulous stare, and you elaborate, whistling, “high school flings are mostly just flings, bakugou.” it’s not the truth, but it’s not entirely a lie.

he makes a face at you. eventually, he exhales.

“so? you like me? can i ‘pass it off’ as that?”

“will you ever let that go?” you groan, and he only responds with a cocky tilt to his lips. “yes, i like you. i wonder why i do,” you huff. “why’d you bring me to a haunted house of all places?”

“so you could get scared and beg me to save you.”

(you make a note to yourself to tell uraraka later that it wasn’t a date. but truthfully, you’re not disappointed about that.)

you stare at him, unamused. “you scare me much more than any haunted house could.”

“then stop getting scared!”

from the way his face is angled away from yours, you’d almost think he’s pouting. your eyes move between his face and the steam—

you wait for his hand to stop steaming before reaching forward and taking hold of it.

you give him a wry smile.

he returns the gesture with the same wild eyes and disarming grin that first drew you to him.

…

word got out that someone had been threatening a visitor in the haunted house. bakugou’s friends are convinced that you both had another fallout—kaminari is too scared to even look in your direction. good for you, because he misses every time you and bakugou lock eyes.

you frequently find yourself stifling laughter.

— note :: thanks for reading!! :) please let me know how this was; a lot of effort went into it and I’m not sure how to feel about this, so feedback is really appreciated! :)

— taglist :: @kur0samu ; @mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law & @sorrythatspussynal ; @i-need-air. If you want to be removed from or added to my taglist (for bnha or all works), please send an ask. :)

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagines #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugou katsuki imagines #boku no hero academia imagines #bakugou katsuki x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #boku no hero academia headcanons #mha headcanons #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha #nia.inks

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licieoic · 4 years

Photo

“Pour One Out” - Digital Oil Painting

Inspired by Suptober, theme: Pour One Out. Bartender/Patron AU! This one was actually inspired by a number of themes from Suptober including “Family Business” and “Favorite,” as shown in the ficlet below the cut. (It’s PG, though Dean is having some more adult oriented thoughts, LOL.)

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“Hey.”

Looking up, Dean saw his brother, Sam, sticking his head into the brewing room. It had to be nearly time for his shift, he already had his abundant hair pulled back.

“Your favorite’s here,” he said.

Dean straightened up so fast, he nearly dropped the pitcher of beer he’d been pouring so carefully. “Trench Coat?” At least, that was the name he used with Sam; he didn’t want his brother knowing what he called the quiet man in his head. He’d never quite had the courage to ask the man’s actual name and since Winchester Bros was cash only, he couldn’t sneak a look at a credit card either. He’d considered asking for his ID, as that was perfectly acceptable in a bar, but since he was clearly over legal drinking age it would just make Dean look like he was stupid or an ass.

“Usual spot,” Sam answered before popping back into the main area of the bar.

He got up close to the shiny brewing vat in front of him and tried to check his appearance, but the metal didn’t make for a good mirror and left him looking deformed. Damn… He hoped there was nothing to worry about, like food in his teeth or crustiness in the corners of his green eyes, and that his light brown hair was just the right amount of tousled, leaning more toward ‘I woke up like this’ and less like ‘I use a lot of product.’ Then he reached into the pocket of his apron for the breath mint he always kept there, on the chance that his favorite patron would stop by.

It was easy to remember the first time he’d ever seen him, he doubted he would ever forget. Five months after he and Sam had opened the bar, they’d had to strike a deal with the Devil (Dean’s private name for their wealthy investor, Crowley) in order to save it from going under. It had always been their dream to start up a family business and they’d each quit lucrative careers (Dean as a mechanic, Sam as a lawyer) to open Winchester Bros. It had taken every penny of their life savings to do it, they just couldn’t give up so soon.

Pride still smarting with the knowledge that they’d be under Crowley’s thumb for the foreseeable future, Dean hadn’t exactly been the friendliest bartender that night. After being short with a small bachelorette party, Sam told him to concentrate on the solo patrons at the bar who usually weren’t the chatty types and leave the groups to him. Dean hadn’t argued, they needed as much patronage as possible, he could ill afford to turn what could be repeat customers into people who never came back just because he was in a mood.

Down at the far end of the bar, he saw a man with dark, messy hair hunched over the bar. He wore a slightly dirty trench coat over a deep navy suit and had a five o’clock shadow darkening his jawline. All in all, a fairly standard-looking barfly, if he were judging a book by its cover. Dean leaned both hands on the bar and tried not to sound too brusque as he asked, “What can I get you?”

Then the man looked up… and Dean forgot everything. He was lost in the bluest eyes ever to blue, bluer than the tie hanging crooked from the man’s neck. Dean’s mouth might have gone slack, he wasn’t sure. They were like angel’s eyes, almost too pretty to be real.

“I don’t know,” said the man, immediately dubbed Angel Eyes. He seemed kind of down, but that wasn’t unusual for a lone bar patron. “Do you have a menu?”

“W-we do,” said Dean, pulling over the list printed on laminated cardstock once he remembered how to speak. The line at the top read ‘Winchester Brews,’ which he’d thought damn clever at the time, now he worried it was corny. “Ahem… Everything on offer is brewed in-house, plus I can make you just about anything you like.”

“Anything, huh?” He looked at the menu, but didn’t really seem to be reading it. “I don’t know,” he said again, “surprise me?”

Something was really bothering this man, Dean could tell, his bartender instincts were jangling like crazy. His bi-dar, however, was all over the place. He never had a problem flirting with the ladies who came in, but it was always hard to tell if he was clear to make a pass at a man. That kind of thing could get dangerous, depending on who it was and what kind of attitude they had.

“Surprise you,” Dean repeated, reaching below the bar for a tumbler which he filled with a few ice cubes. “Well, you look like a man of… discerning tastes.” He followed this with a wink to test the waters. To his delight, Angel Eyes smiled. And Dean’s heartbeat doubled. He turned around and took a surreptitious breath in an attempt to calm it down, but it didn’t work.

From the back shelf, he retrieved a bottle of whiskey with a simple handwritten label on the front that read ‘Winchester Special #5’ and turned back to face him. As he poured, Dean said, “This here is our monthly special.”

“What makes it special?”

“It changes every month,” said Dean. “Afterward, we add it to the list of brews. And if you can guess the flavor, the inspiration behind it… it’s on me.”

“Has anyone gotten it right yet?” It was the nineteenth, he’d assumed correctly that some people had already tried Dean’s challenge.

He shook his head. “Not quite.” Gesturing at the tumbler, he quirked a brow and asked, “Care to try?”

Angel Eyes picked up the glass and took a sip. He tilted his head, appearing thoughtful.

“So?” asked Dean when he didn’t get an immediate answer. “What’s it taste like to you?”

“Hmm. Molecules.”

Dean laughed outright and Angel Eyes grinned. “Well, you’re not wrong!” he exclaimed. “Molecules, heh, can’t say I’ve ever heard that one before, but is that your final answer?”

Swirling the ice in the glass, Angel Eyes took a longer pull, maintaining eye contact with Dean as he rolled the whiskey slowly over his tongue. Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down when he swallowed. Unconsciously, he licked his lips and those bluer than blue eyes followed the movement.

Angel Eyes clicked his tongue. “Blueberry…” he said, slowly. “But there’s something else… It’s sweet and… creamy?”

“No hints,” said Dean, but mentally he was cheering the man on, wanting him to make the right guess, and he was so, so close.

He took one last sip from the glass, finishing it off. “It’s good. I like it. It reminds me of a blueberry sour cream pie. Final answer.”

Dean grinned broadly. “We have a winner!”

He returned the smile with one of his own and it seemed like both of them had forgotten their problems prior to their meeting each other. “Really?”

Nodding, Dean poured him another. “On me. Since you’re the first correct guess.”

He picked up the tumbler and saluted Dean with it. “Cheers.”

Dean nodded, a little disappointed that he didn’t have an excuse to keep their conversation going, and turned to go back to work.

“Oh, and—”

Heart in his throat, he looked back. Angel Eyes hesitated.

“Thank you,” he said, finally. “This… really helped.”

“Yeah?”

He made a vague gesture. “I don’t want to get into it, I know bartenders aren’t therapists,” he said. “Just some family issues.”

Dean’s heart sank. He had a family. Of course he did. “Well, you’re not the first guy to come here to escape his wife for a while,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Oh, I’m not married,” Angel Eyes said.

“Girlfriend?” came out of Dean’s mouth before he could stop himself.

He shook his head. “One of my brothers is constantly going through a rebellious phase. Our father isn’t happy about it.”

“Ohhhh, well, I can definitely understand annoying brothers,” said Dean, aiming his thumb at Sam who was down at the opposite end of the bar, and forcing himself to swallow down any follow-up questions. He’d already said he didn’t want to talk about it, Dean wanted to respect that. “You should bring your family around,” he said, smiling. “It’s easier to open up after a few, you know?”

Angel Eyes chuckled. “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing or a bad thing. Besides…” He thumbed the rim of his glass before glancing back up, hitting him with that blue gaze all over again. “I don’t know if I want them coming around here. Maybe I want to keep you all to myself.”

Any thoughts of pushing for more patrons to offset his and Sam’s massive debt had flown away. Dean could only nod like an idiot, he knew what the man meant, of course, but the unspoken implications in the statement were pinging around in his head like a super ball. He might have squeaked out an ‘okay’ or a ‘yeah’ as he headed back to work, he didn’t remember. He did remember almost tripping over his own feet and not looking back, knowing his face would be bright red. He pretended to not remember hearing another chuckle.

Since then, Angel Eyes came in at least once a week, always sat at the end of the bar, and always ordered the monthly special, even though he paid for each subsequent drink following his correct guess. He was never wrong about the flavor either, which amazed Dean, he even got the lemon meringue right. He’d been so sure that no one would get it – he’d heard lemon-vanilla, toasted marshmallow, all kinds of other things because who guesses ‘meringue’ for a whiskey anyway? Apparently, a man with gorgeous blue eyes in a slightly dirty trench coat. Three months in, he was the only person who’d figured out that Dean based all the specials on his favorite pies and it only made his guesses come that much quicker.

As he headed out to the front, he dropped off the pitcher of beer and grabbed #15 from the shelf. He almost couldn’t believe it had been ten months since his favorite patron had first come in. Tonight was the night, he resolved, he would ask for Angel Eyes’ actual name. Maybe in another ten months, he’d work up the courage to ask for his number. Dean internally rolled his eyes at himself. He was truly pathetic.

Angel Eyes perked up at the end of the bar the moment Dean emerged from the back, yellow light from a nearby neon sign on the wall reflecting off his dark hair, almost like a halo. They smiled at each other and Dean’s heart was immediately doing flips, seeing how obviously happy he was to see him. Could be the Crush Goggles, but still…

“Fancy seeing you here,” said Dean, filling the glass with ice and setting it down on the bar. “I was wondering when you’d be in to try the latest special.”

“I’m just hoping it isn’t Pumpkin Spice,” said Angel Eyes. Being that it was October, it was a fair comment. You couldn’t go ten feet without encountering something bearing that smell and/or flavor.

“I do like pumpkin pie,” said Dean, pouring the whiskey. “But I think it’s more of a November flavor.”

Dark brows lifted. “A hint? This is new. What did I do to deserve that?”

Dean laughed. “Maybe I’m in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Me too. It’s a good night.”

“Hopefully, about to be better,” said Dean, nodding at the glass.

“I don’t need to drink to have a good time,” he said, but picked up the tumbler all the same to have a sip.

“Your continued presence at my bar says otherwise,” said Dean.

Angel Eyes swallowed. “There are other reasons a person might come to a bar.”

“Such as?”

“Good ambience.” He took a longer sip and let his eyes wander over Dean before traveling back up as he swallowed. “I like the company.”

Dean hoped he wasn’t blushing but he couldn’t hold back a goofy smile. “You do get to meet all kinds of people in a place like this,” he said.

“Yes, though I was referring to one specific person.”

“Yeah?”

He finished the whiskey and set down the glass, meeting Dean’s eyes head-on. “Yes.”

Mouth dry, Dean cleared his throat. “So, uh…” He gestured at the tumbler. “Any guesses?”

“Maybe.” He trailed one finger around the rim of the glass. “If I pay for the drink, can I have something else as my prize? If I get it right, of course.”

“Uh.” He swallowed hard. “S-s-sure.” He could hardly manage the one word; he couldn’t even summon the brain power to ask what it was he wanted.

Smacking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, Angel Eyes considered his answer. “This is a good one,” he said. “Definitely not pumpkin, but it has sweetness… and a note of tart as well.”

“Are you a sommelier?” Dean asked suddenly. “That would sure as hell explain a lot.”

He laughed, the bright sound so incongruous with his gravelly voice, it had quickly become one of Dean’s favorite things about him. So much so, that he would go out of his way to come up with a corny joke or allow himself to be a little clumsy, just for the chance to hear that laugh.

“No,” he said, still smiling. “Disappointed?”

“No. I just can’t figure out how you’re never wrong.”

“I haven’t made my guess yet,” he pointed out.

“And?”

Deliberately, he reached into his glass and retrieved a small ice cube. Before Dean knew what was happening, Angel Eyes was popping it into his mouth and sucking on it while he thought about what answer to give.

Guh. He has to be doing this on purpose! Dean thought. How does he make everything he does so sexy?

Still keeping eye contact with Dean, he bit down hard. Crunch! If he kept this up, Dean would need to run to the bathroom and readjust his jeans. To try and diffuse some of the tension in the air, Dean attempted to make a joke like he usually would.

“You, uh, you know what they say about people who chew their ice, don’t you?” he asked, almost tripping on his own tongue.

“No,” he said, to Dean’s surprise. “What do they say?”

Well, this backfired spectacularly, thought Dean. “They, uh… that they’re, well, you know…” Those clear blue eyes wouldn’t give him an inch, Angel Eyes sat patiently waiting to hear the punchline of Dean’s naughty joke like they were talking about the weather. He had no choice but to quietly stutter, “That they’re… s-s-sexually frustrated.”

“Oh.”

Really? That’s all you have to say, ‘oh’? thought Dean, incredulously. While he watched, Angel Eyes fished out another ice cube and crunched down on it viciously, all while holding Dean’s gaze, as if to punctuate his statement. Heat creeping up into his cheeks, Dean took a steadying breath. Curse blushing, he thought. Curse the noun, curse the verb, curse the act!

“H-have I finally stumped you?” Dean asked when his tongue decided to work again.

“Caramel apple rhubarb,” he said, definitively. “Final answer.”

“Damn!” exclaimed Dean, pounding one fist on the bar. “You did it again!”

All he did was smile in response, the handsome bastard. As he reached into his coat pocket, he casually remarked, “You know, your freckles disappear when you blush.”

He blinked. “They do?”

“Then I get to notice them all over again when they come back.” Retrieving his wallet, he pulled out a ten-dollar bill and placed it on the bar between them. “It’s what I’ve been calling you in my head all this time. Freckles.”

“Well, that’s kind of rude, how would you like it if my brother and I were calling you Trench Coat behind your back?”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay, good, because that’s totally what we’ve been doing.”

They snickered together.

“Out of curiosity,” said Dean, “what were you calling Sammy?”

“Manbun.”

Dean snorted. “I’m absolutely going to call him that.”

“So, his name is Sam? You don’t wear nametags, so I’ve only ever known your last name.”

“Nametags are lame.”

“They are. What’s your name, then?”

“Is this what you wanted instead of a free drink?”

“No, this is something I should have asked ten months ago.”

Fair point. Dean held out his hand. “Dean,” he said.

His fingers were cold from the ice but his palm was warm and smooth. “Castiel.”

“Wow.” It wasn’t a name he’d ever heard before; surprise mixed with his pleasure over finally learning the name of his long-held crush. “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“What were you expecting?”

“Not sure. Probably something anti-climactic, like Steve.” He picked up the ten with his other hand. “I’ll get you some change.”

Castiel tightened his grip when Dean would have let go. “Keep it,” he said. “Consider it a tip.”

“Okay,” Dean said, slowly, tucking the bill into his apron pocket.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” asked Castiel.

“No.”

He grinned and it put all of the smiles Dean had received before to shame. It held a hint of mischievousness as he said, “That’s what I want.”

“You-you want—what? D-dinner? W-with me?” Dean couldn’t quite believe his ears. He’d barely been able to hope for a first-name basis tonight, he couldn’t possibly be so lucky as to score a date. But then, considering they’d been dancing around each other for ten months, maybe Castiel thought if he didn’t make the first move, it would never happen.

Bringing up his other hand, Castiel sandwiched Dean’s between the two as he said, very deliberately, “I don’t believe I’ve guessed wrong.”

Dean could be pretty dense sometimes, but he knew unequivocally that Castiel wasn’t talking about the whiskey. “I’m off in half an hour,” he said, smiling like an idiot.

“I’ll be waiting… Freckles.”

Okay… so maybe blushing wasn’t such a bad thing.

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mbti-notes · 3 years

Text

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

-----------------------

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

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sturchling · 4 years

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Damian uses the lasso of truth on Lila and Akuma class to reveal why they treated Mari horribly (except Alix Nath Chlo Sabrina Kim Jules)Lila has issues & her + Alya Max even Rose were jealous of Mari’s success, connections and how perfectly good she is (Rose: without being annoying and childish)and since Lila tells them what they want to hear and they wanted 2 her Mari wasn’t better than them that she’s lower and it was an excuse to bully her. Think of the worst karma 4 them to suffer through

Here you go! I based the karma off of how bullying had been handled at my old school. Hope you like it! Let me know what you think.

Damian hadn’t even met this Lila girl yet, but he already despised her. Marinette had told him all about Lila and her lies. Damian had met Marinette a several months ago when he accompanied his father to Paris for business. The Waynes visited the Dupain-Cheng bakery, and Marinette offered to show Damian around Paris. Before Damian could reject the offer, Bruce accepted it for him. Damian begrudgingly followed the young designer, but ended up enjoying her company. After that trip, the two kept texting and skyping to stay in touch and became good friends.

-----------------

It wasn’t long after they met, that the Lila situation took a turn for the worse. Lila began making progress turning the class against Marinette. Alix, Nathaniel, Chloe, Sabrina, Kim, and Juleka didn’t believe what Lila was saying about Marinette. But the rest of the class had turned on Marinette, believing the worst in her. They all thought she was bullying Lila, and they in turn, bullied her. Marinette’s friends tried defending her, but the rest of the class was still able to torment Marinette when she was alone. Adrien, even though he knew Lila was lying, did nothing to stop the class’ attack against Marinette. While Marinette was happy that she still had some of her friends, she was upset that the rest of the class could think so little of her.

-----------------

Marinette became quieter after a while. The bullying was starting to take its toll on her. Damian noticed the change in Marinette pretty quickly and asked what was wrong. He knew that Marinette, the bubbliest person he knew, wouldn’t be this quiet unless something was wrong. She was very hesitant to say anything, but eventually he got the whole story out of her. How her class had started to bully her, based off the word of a liar. How friends she had trusted, had turned on her in the blink of an eye. Damian was furious. He had become rather protective of Marinette, and was infuriated that her class was being so cruel to her. So, he resolved to do something about it.

-----------------

Damian had spoken to Wonder Woman, who said his plan should work. Damian was going to borrow the lasso of truth and reveal the liar to the class, if not the whole school. He planned to trap, not just Lila, but all of Marinette’s bullies in the rope. That way, the rest of her class could not doubt the veracity of the lasso. He was going to do this during either lunch or the end of the day, to ensure the maximum amount of witnesses to the liar’s forced confession. He hoped some faculty might be there as well and be able to take action against the liar and her followers. With his plan set in motion, Damian prepared to go to Paris later that week. He was determined to help Marinette solve her liar problem. He was, admittedly, looking forward to destroying this liar.

-----------------

Finally, Damian arrived in Paris. He had decided to enact his plan at the end of the school day. That way Marinette couldn’t be bombarded afterwards, and the faculty was most likely to be present during dismissal. Damian arrived at the school a few minutes before dismissal was set to begin. He waited by the stairs, ready for Mrs. Bustier’s class to walk by. He knew, from what Marinette told him, that her tormentors often left the class first, leaving Marinette and her friends alone in the classroom. He also knew what the liar looked like. So, once the classes were dismissed, he waited until he spotted a crowd of about six people surrounding the liar come down the stairs. It was time to reveal the liar. With that thought in mind, Damian threw the lasso around the group.

-----------------

Marinette was walking out with her friends, and had just gotten to the top of the stairs, when she saw a golden rope ensnare Lila and her cronies. She was very confused, even more so when she saw Damian holding the other end of the rope. Why was Damian here? Why did Damian tie up half her class? Damian spoke up, “This lasso compels you to speak the truth. It is the lasso of truth, and we are going to have a little conversation.” Max went to deny that this was the legendary lasso, but instead he was forced to say, “Yes, this is the lasso of truth.” Marinette was shocked. New question. How did Damian get a hold of the lasso of truth?

-----------------

Damian noticed out of the corner of his eye that an older man had emerged from an office upstairs. That must be the headmaster. Perfect. Damian glared at the girl he knew to be Lila Rossi, “You are Lila Rossi, correct?” Lila was forced to confirm that that was in fact her name. Damian continued, not giving anyone a chance to stop him, “Isn’t it true that you are nothing but a liar?” To Lila’s horror she said, “Yes, I am a liar.” Gasps were heard from around the courtyard. Damian smirked, “Tell the truth Lila, what all have you lied about?” Lila tried to resist, but the lasso forced her to reveal everything. The truth came tumbling out of her, and didn’t stop until she had revealed everything she had ever lied about. She revealed that she didn’t know any of the celebrities she claimed to know, and that she never intended to help her class reach their goals like she had promised. She even revealed that all of her injuries and disabilities were all fake. Even the lying disease she had made up, which caused Mr. Damocles to become quite angry that this young girl had tricked him. Damian asked one more question for the liar, “To be clear, Marinette Dupain-Cheng never bullied or harassed you in any way, but you have been bullying her, correct?” Lila tried desperately to keep her mouth shut, but of course it didn’t work, “That is correct. Marinette never did anything to me except call me out as a liar. I wanted to make her suffer for seeing through my lies. No one ever sees through them. So, I turned her class against her. I even got them to start bullying her by claiming that she had been bullying me. I only ever told them what they wanted to hear.” That statement caught Damian’s attention. He hadn’t originally intended on actually using the lasso on the rest of the class. He had just considered them to be idiots that followed the words of the liar. Now he wondered just how innocent they really were. He then turned his attention to the rest of the class.

-----------------

Damian asked the trapped akuma class, “Did you truly believe Lila’s lies?” When they confirmed that, he continued, “Why did you believe her over Marinette? Why did you all turn on your friend? Why start bullying Marinette?” The class all tried fighting it, but they had the same success that Lila had in that endeavor. Alya broke first, “We were jealous of her! She is the same age as us, but she is already successful as a fashion designer and has so many connections. She is so perfect all the time, it is so annoying.” Rose chimed in, “Yeah, I always thought she had to be better than us, since she was so successful. All of us did. It made me feel insecure. My friend was already so much further ahead in life than I was. But then Lila told us that Marinette wasn’t any better than us.” The rest of the trapped akuma class agreed with that, then Alya spoke up again, “Yeah, in fact Lila said that Marinette was actually worse than us. She was only successful because she happened to know famous people. She was using her connections to get ahead instead of working hard.” Damian became enraged hearing that. Marinette did work hard and how dare these people assume otherwise. Damian growled, “So you decided to bully her for that inane reason?” Alya spoke again, “It wasn’t just that. Lila told us that Marinette was bullying her. If Marinette sunk that low, then she deserved to know what it was like to be bullied.” Damian was quickly losing his composure, hearing these people say such vile things. It seems the rest of the school was of the same mind, because most everyone was glaring at the akuma class now. Mr. Damocles had now come downstairs to stand next to Damian. Damian also noticed that several students were filming what the akuma class was saying. Good, there will be a record of what they have said. Damian asked one final question, “To be clear, how have you been bullying Marinette? What did you do to her?” The class then began to admit everything they had ever done to Marinette. Every cruel word, every bit of destruction, every trip and shove. By the end of the confession, the whole school was furious with this group. How could they do all that to one of the sweetest girls in the school.

-----------------

When they were finally finished, Damian released them from the lasso. They tried to back pedal and fix the damage they had caused. But they weren’t able fix this with a few words. The group were taken by Mr. Damocles to his office, so they could discuss what they had admitted to. Their parents were called and were horrified to hear what their kids had done. Lila was expelled and her mother sent Lila back to Italy to live with her grandparents who would be able to watch her more closely. Obviously, the rest of the parents grounded their kids. Nino and Rose, who hadn’t done much more than call Marinette names, were given in school suspension and told they had to write an apology to Marinette. Ivan, Mylene, and Max were all suspended for 10 days, and they also had to write an apology. Even though they hadn’t destroyed much of Marinette’s property, their parents still were going to make them pay back Marinette for everything they had destroyed. Adrien, even though he didn’t directly participate in the bullying, was still made to take classes in bullying prevention, the damage bullying can cause, and how to recognize toxic behaviors in people. Alya, who had done the most damage, was also suspended. She was suspended for 10 days as well, pending a hearing with the school board. Only the school board could suspend a student for longer than 10 days. Alya had been confident that she could convince the school board to let her return to school, but it hadn’t worked in her favor. The school board was horrified by the details of what Alya had done and agreed she needed to be suspended for even longer. Alya was officially suspended for 3 weeks. After that time, she would still have detention after school for the next month. Her parents also decided to make her shut down the Ladyblog, which Alya had started using as a way to harass Marinette online. Finally, Alya was also made to pay Marinette back for everything she had destroyed. Everyone that was punished also had their event privileges taken from them, which meant they could not attend any school events, like dances or trips. Even when their punishments were done, the akuma class realized that things had changed drastically for them at school. The rest of the school treated them like pariahs.

-----------------

Meanwhile Marinette moved on from the events of the akuma class. She became her happy, bubbly self again. She was glad to finally be free of that liar’s manipulations. While she did accept everyone’s apology, they were never truly friends again, the relationships were just too damaged to go back to normal. While it did make Marinette sad to realize that all of these people that she thought were her friends were jealous of her, she was happy to have discovered people that were her true friends. She and Damian were closer than ever, and she was very grateful to him for putting an end to Lila’s torments.

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sondheimfam · 3 years

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I think I might just be an idiot but could you explain to me why every Sondheim Stan on this website hates girlboss company with a fiery passion? Not defensive or righty just genuinely curious

well, to put it shortly, it’s complicated. see, company is inherently a poor choice for gender bending because of its messages and themes. yes, company is a musical about marriage and loneliness, but to leave it at just those things would be a discredit to the show’s whole scope. company is, at its core, a commentary on a very certain kind of upper middle class, heteronormative, white, urban society. through the character of robert, the audience is led to a place where the absurdities of their world are spotlighted. this method relies on the audience carrying a pre-established set of social norms and then laughing at them (or wincing at them). part of company’s endurance is its ability to be continually relevant as time passes, certain expectations and understandings remain the same.

this is going to get really long. if any other blog members (or anyone else) want to add anything, go ahead and reblog this post! more under the cut.

it’s easy to think that switching the gender of the main character from male to female would modernize company’s content, but actually that just complicates things further and not in a good way. bobby is transformed into bobbie without any consideration of how that would actually change the show’s complete narrative. bobbie’s resulting characterization ends up feeling unnatural. director marianne elliott attempts to resolve that by throwing an additional thread about bobbie’s relationship problems stemming from concerns about her “biological clock” (being childless at 35? heresy!). making a primary female character’s primary conflict related to childbearing only makes the characterization more convoluted and reductive.

in addition to just issues surrounding bobbie, there are issues with gender bending the rest of the cast while also holding onto a heteronormative narrative for its lead. i’m not sure if you’ve watched the bootleg of 2020 company but the other gender issues are also a total bust. the only couple which retains the original dynamic for its pair is sarah and harry. for peter & susan and david & jenny the roles in the relationships are switched. this makes for really strange and unnatural feeling scenes. david & jenny’s scene suffers the worst from this since a domineering wife and passive husband does not offer the same (sad) commentary that the reverse does.

making paul & amy into paul & jamie is cute but ultimately feels like performative woke points since amy being a woman feeling anxiety over being pressured into marriage is integral to the original company’s storyline. watching amy overcome her anxiety about committing to a relationship marks a turning point in robert’s self reflection, although amy’s specific anxiety and expression of it is distinctly cis feminine.

here’s one i don’t have a lot of explanation for: to keep bobbie straight, instead of propositioning bobbie herself, joanne offers bobbie her husband larry which both doesn’t make sense at all and is more than a little concerning.

i feel like i’m using too many words here so in short: the boyfriends aren’t fun at all. unlike the girlfriends, they all come off a bit strange in a bad way. male april is an idiot, male kathy makes no sense, and male marta seems like a male feminist mansplainer.

BASICALLY, the actual attempts to gender bend the show are done extremely badly and the result is a show that feels messy and directionless slapped with a big fat label of “look! i’m woke now!” ignoring that the original company is already extremely progressive in its criticisms.

separate from those issues, even if the changes had been made with the most thoughtful of care, the pacing of 2020 company is abysmal. the scenes are rushed through, as if they can’t even trust the audience to pay attention when people aren’t singing. the actors try their best, but they aren’t given any time to make interesting choices or convey... well, anything?

a lot of us love company deeply and were excited to see it brought back to broadway again. however, 2020 company ended up being more than disappointing, it completely threw up a middle finger to everything the original show stood for and everyone who loved it. hope this could explain some of our issues with it. if you want to read more (somehow), this is the review that i wrote right after watching 2020 company for the first time last year. it’s pretty dated but does go into more depth with my issues with the characterization.

if you want to speedrun hating 2020 company just listen to this song from the 2018 london cast album (the same production before it transferred to broadway)

i’ll take “it’s larry loser!!!″ over “you dirty feminist!!!” any day!

#i knew this was going to be a long post and well #i had to cut myself short!!!#whaddahell #asks #admin fosca #one man pr team right here <3 #company musical

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princesssarisa · 3 years

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Character ask: Sleeping Beauty's Prince

Tagged by @ariel-seagull-wings.

These answers apply to the Prince from Charles Perrault and the Brothers Grimm's versions of the tale and all subsequent traditional retellings, as well as to Disney's animated Prince Phillip. They don't apply to any of the pre-Perrault versions of the character who impregnate the Princess in her sleep, nor do they apply to Prince Phillip from the live-action Maleficent duology.

Favorite thing about them: He's a charming fairy tale prince. Even though that archetype is easy to mock, it's still endearing. For Disney's Prince Phillip, let me add to that his warmth, courage, intelligence and sense of humor. He's definitely the best of the three Walt-era princes; Snow White and Cinderella's princes are stuffed shirts by comparison.

Least favorite thing about them: In the traditional tale, kissing a sleeping girl whom he doesn't know. The issue of consent is much more of a real issue here than it is in Disney's Snow White.

I don't think it's quite as much of an issue for Disney's Prince Phillip, though, because he and Aurora were already in love before she fell asleep, and because he knows the kiss will break the spell, as opposed to just kissing her because she's so pretty. About Phillip my least favorite thing is probably his bold pressing of his feelings onto the shy, withdrawing Aurora in "Once Upon a Dream." Of course it's just old-fashioned wooing, perfectly innocent by the standards of its time, but by modern standards, if a girl is reluctant to speak to you because you're a stranger, the appropriate response isn't "But we've met before... once upon a dream."

And for Perrault's Prince: For goodness' sake, how could you leave your ogress mother in charge of the kingdom and leave your wife and children in her care when you went off to war?! You knew she craved human flesh, you hid your marriage for two years to protect your wife and babies from her, but then...?! Perrault's bowdlerization of Sun, Moon and Talia (changing the wife who tries to kill her husband's mistress and illegitimate children into a flesh-craving ogress mother-in-law) is awkward and reduces the Prince to an idiot. The Grimms were wiser to cut that part of the story altogether and end with the awakening of Sleeping Beauty and her castle.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I like stories about princesses.

*Like Disney's Phillip, I love Aurora's singing voice.

*Also like Phillip, I like the color red.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not royalty.

*I'm too shy either to kiss a sleeping person I've never met (traditional tale) or to romantically pursue a retiring stranger at first sight (Disney's Phillip).

*Unlike Disney's Phillip, I don't know how to handle a sword, so a dragon would probably make short work of me. Though if I had the fairies to help me, who knows?

Favorite line: From Disney's Phillip:

"Now Father, you're living in the past. This is the 14th century!"

BrOTP: His horse, Samson, from the Disney version.

OTP: Sleeping Beauty.

nOTP: The Old Fairy/Maleficent.

Random headcanon: Perrault's prince has always struggled with the fact that he's half ogre. He has cravings for human flesh too – nowhere near as strong as his mother's, because he's half human, but other people do smell all too tasty to him. Yet he manages to control that side of himself, so he naïvely assumes his mother can control it too, not realizing that she has no desire to control it.

Unpopular opinion: Even though the issue of non-consensual kisses deserves to be discussed, I don't think it makes either the Prince or the story unredeemable. Disney resolved it fairly well by having Aurora and Phillip effectively be already in a relationship when the kiss takes place (yes, it was Love at First Sight, but that's just a storytelling convention), but to do that they eliminated the 100 years of sleep from the original tale. I might be tempted to write a retelling that keeps the 100-year sleep, but draws inspiration from the scene in the ballet where the Lilac Fairy shows the Prince a vision of Aurora, and had the Prince communicate telepathically with Sleeping Beauty thanks to some magical intervention. Every night he would dream of meeting her and talking with her, while in the castle she would simultaneously have the same dream about him, and in the last dream before he actually finds her, she would give him consent to kiss her.

Song I associate with them:

The obvious: "Once Upon a Dream" from the Disney version:

youtube

"Slumber" from the Cannon Movie Tales version.

youtube

Favorite pictures of them:

This illustration by Charles Folkard:

This illustration by Jessie Wilcox Smith:

This one by Trina Schart Hyman – both here and in her Snow White, her bearded princes are a nice change of pace for fairy tale lovers who prefer manly men to pretty boys, and this moment with his bride-to-be and her parents is so joyous and sweet:

This illustration by Mercer Mayer – I like the way his clothes are tattered from fighting through the briars:

This illustration by Christian Birmingham:

Disney's Prince Phillip with Aurora:

Christopher Reeve in the Faerie Tale Theatre version:

Nicholas Clay with Tanhee Welch in the Cannon Movie Tales version:

Matthew Ball with Yasmine Naghdi in Tchaikovsky's ballet:

#fairy tale #sleeping beauty #prince #prince charming #prince phillip #ask game

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roserozu22 · 3 years

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Rogercop

Author’s note: It’s me with a new update and you didn’t have to wait long. A massive thank you to my beta Nina of fairy tail!

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Morning had sprung and Nathalie was getting Gabriel ready for a very important event - careers day at Collège Françoise Dupont.

“Sir, are you sure this is a good idea?” Nathalie asked worriedly.

“Yes, this is a good opportunity for me to see this Nathaniel boy’s parents,” Gabriel smirked.

Suddenly, the door opened and there stood Adrien fiddling with his necklace nervously. “Ready, papa?”

Gabriel looked at his youngest child and smiled reassuringly at him. “You didn’t force me to come with you, and to be fair, I haven’t seen much of your teachers, only your principal. So no need to be nervous mon petit.”

Adrien smiled at Gabriel and then took hold of his father’s hands and Felix’s once he entered the foyer. They got into the car to travel to the school.

=^._.^= ∫

When the Agreste family arrived at the school (a little late, due to some idiots on the road), they met one Mr. Tom Dupain.

“My day begins at 4 a.m. every morning because the bakery opens at 7. You would think that the life of a baker is pretty routine, making the same pastries, rolls, cakes... but actually, it's different every day. One day someone might order a cake in the shape of the Eiffel Tower, and another day you might-” Tom explained to Gabriel and Felix’s boredom and Adrien’s interest.

“Marinette will come around and pass out some croissants baked fresh this morning,” Tom said as he pointed at his daughter.

“Thank you, Mr Dupain. Now, let's meet Alya's mom, who is head chef at the Grand Paris hotel, owned by our mayor, Mr Bourgeois.” Miss Bustier.

On Marinette’s rounds, she smiled happily at Adrien. She was excited as she knew that his model career would end later than most, giving him more time to model. However, she smiled sadly at Felix as he looked disinterested. As Marinette was making the rounds, Chloé opened a case with a bracelet inside.

Sabrina looked at the bracelet and immediately grabbed it, “It's beautiful!”

Chloé then promptly slapped Sabrina’s hand. “Don't touch it!”

Whilst this was happening, Gabriel whispered in Felix’s ear, “Remind me why I sent you two to this school?”

“Because you wanted me to learn the ‘commoner’ life, and also Adrien wanted to go to school just like his big brother,” Felix whispered back.

Gabriel hummed in thought.

“Put it away, Chloé! It could get in the wrong hands!” Mr Bourgeois attempted to scold his daughter

“I wonder how many croissants your dad would have to sell to buy you one of these? What am I saying? He'd have to sell the whole store!” Chloé taunted Marinette as she noticed her passing out the croissants.

“Well, if you're so rich, obviously you don't need free croissants!” Marinette said as she left the table but not without smirking as she could hear a poor comeback from Chloé.

Meanwhile, Plagg was having a slight conundrum himself. “Is that Camembert?” Plagg asked himself as flew from Felix’s bag to Chloé's. “Huh? Oh, that's not Camembert... but it is very shiny. I like shiny, hmm!”

In the world outside of kwamis… “Unfortunately, I have no dishes to share. But maybe Mr Bourgeois will invite you all to the hotel and treat you to lunch!” Alya’s mum said while looking at her boss, with a glare that could rival Gabriel’s

The said boss nodded while sweating nervously at his employee’s glare and sighed in relief when the glare melted away. While the students were applauding, a policeman named Roger started laughing.

Unfortunately, Plagg caused Marinette to slip (as he landed on his head after continuing playing with the bracelet)

“Marinette, are you okay?” Adrien asked as he left his chair while helping the girl up, not knowing that Gabriel was staring at her intently.

Before Marinette could answer, however, Gabriel swiftly put Adrien back in his chair and stood in front of said chair protectively.

“Next on the list is Sabrina's father, a policeman. Please welcome Officer Roger!” Miss Bustier said quickly to diffuse the attention and stop Gabriel from glaring at the students and herself.

The students started applauding, although with more confusion than anything else. With a quick glare from his brother and father, Adrien didn’t even bother clapping.

“I've been a police officer for 15 years, and I firmly believe that every citizen is innocent until proven guilty.” As soon Officer Roger said this, the drama queen of the class exclaimed. “My bracelet! It's gone! I had it a second ago.” She then looks at Marinette “You! You stole it!”

“What? What are you talking about?!” Marinette asked confusedly.

“You purposely tripped over my bag so you could steal my bracelet!” Chloé then looks at Roger “You're a policeman! Arrest her!”

“My daughter is not a thief!” Tom defended Marinette and glared at the other girl.

Gabriel could only look at the students and parents and without warning, got a massive headache and thought of removing Adrien (and Felix) from the stupidity of the whole thing.

Roger then blew his whistle without warning which caused Gabriel’s headache to worsen. “Hold on a minute, Miss Bourgeois, we don't accuse without proof! Now, everyone, calm down, please. Maybe you simply misplaced your bracelet.”

“You're calling me a liar?! Daddy!” Chloé said in surprise and anger.

“Roger, I demand you search for this girl’s bracelet immediately!”

“Ha!”

“Please, everybody!” Miss Bustier pleaded although she was not heard at all.

“Need I remind you that as mayor of this city, I am your superior!” Mr Bourgeois said unkindly towards the policeman.

Before Roger could say anymore, Gabriel decided to speak up.

“I’ve had enough of this. My children don’t need to see this debacle. They came to school for their education, not some soap opera that is poorly made!” Gabriel then noticed that Felix’s friend was recording the whole thing. “This boy hasn’t stopped recording since I’ve entered the classroom, maybe there is something on there." Gabriel then gently moved Adrien from his seat and said. “I’m going back home with Adrien and until this issue is resolved he will no longer be attending school." Gabriel suddenly looked at Felix. “If you like you can go home with me or stay for the whole day.”

Felix looked at the drama gleefully and then looked at his father and replied. “I’ll stay here and see the drama unfold.” Gabriel nodded and left the classroom with a very reluctant Adrien, but not without giving his secretary’s number to Nathaniel’s parents.

=^._.^= ∫

As soon as Adrien and Gabriel arrived at the mansion, Adrien was instantly sent to his room (as according to Gabriel he had had too much excitement and needed rest) and went down to his lair and transformed into his evil alter-ego Hawkmoth.

=^._.^= ∫

At the exact moment, Mr Bourgeois and Tom were seen shouting at each other while the students were looking at the two adults in interest (mostly Felix).

Nathaniel then looked at the adults and said, “Let’s do what my Mr Agreste said and look through Nino’s video. Maybe we can find something because I for one would like to see my significant other outside of the mansion or photo shoots.”

The adults looked at the upcoming artist in shock (while Felix smiled at the artist with pride until he felt something hit his ankle and swiftly noticed that it was the missing bracelet on top of his kwami’s head and rapidly left the room quietly) not noticing that a new drama was going down.

=^._.^= ∫

Ms Mendeleiev threw a piece of litter into the bin but missed so the litter landed on the floor which caused Rogercop to grab the litter. He then flew to where Ms Mendeleiev was.

“You're under arrest!” Rogercop shouted at the poor science teacher.

“What? What for?” Ms Mendeleiev asked in confusion and horror.

“You threw litter on a public sidewalk, jaywalked and crossed the red light,” Rogercop said robotically. The police whistle was still around his neck. His skin was quite pale, and a hollow, light blue triangle pointing downwards was at the centre of his chest. His helmet sported a light blue line above a light blue shield in front of his eyes. His left shoulder and right shoulder wore blinking red and blue police lights, respectively.

“Well, I suppose I did. But you can't arrest me! Who are you anyway? You don't look like a policeman!”

Rogercop then threw cuffs at the science teacher “I sentence you to trash duty.” He then blew his whistle which controlled the handcuffs and made Ms Mendeleiev robotically throw the litter in the trash can.

“Next mission: Seeking justice on Mayor Bourgeois.”

=^._.^= ∫

Meanwhile back at the school, Felix was seen lecturing Plagg (who was still wearing the bracelet). “Never do that again! Do you know the troubles you caused!”

“I thought it was Camembert,” Plagg said. “And besides I think the bracelet suits my rock-hard abs.”

“Well, clearly it isn’t Camembert” Felix groaned and swiftly thought of something else, “and Plagg you do not have abs.” Felix then stopped as he heard footsteps and looked down and saw it was Rogercop.

“Great, great, just great, thanks to you Plagg, we have now to fight against an akumatized policeman. You’ve made another one of your dumb decisions.”

“Sorry, Felix,” Plagg said, remorsefully.

“I know, now let’s try and get this bracelet off you, and fix everything.”

Plagg nodded while Felix began looking through his locker for anything that could help. Meanwhile, Rogercop had caused one of the parents to run laps around the gymnasium.

=^._.^= ∫

Simultaneously, back at the mansion, Adrien was seen lying down on his bed with a look of boredom on his face. He was texting Nathaniel who was giving him updates regarding the situation of the missing bracelet.

=^._.^= ∫

“See, Chloé? I tripped on the bag, but Sabrina held the bracelet, we are all suspects!” Marinette said (while trying and failing to be diplomatic).

“But, what about Mr Agreste, isn’t he like in most of the video?” One of the students asked.

“To be fair, I wanted to film Adrien and Felix, but I think Mr Agreste knew what I was doing or that he wanted Adrien to not see. You can never know with that dude.” Nino said in Mr Agreste's defence.

“And let’s remember Mr Agreste is a fashion designer. If he wants to he can design any jewellery that he or the twins need or want,” Alya said.

And once again, Marinette opened her big mouth and caused the situation to be five times worse than it was until Rogercop entered the classroom uninvited. He asked the students, parents and teacher where the mayor was. They all denied that they knew where he was until a voice spoke up. Recognising the voice, everyone groaned.

“Mr Principal, “I demand that you find who stole my daughter's bracelet ASAP! Or your job is on the line, sir…!”

Marinette then quietly left the room and jokingly said to Tikki “Who knew that our mayor could shout like that.”

Tikki then glared at her holder and sternly said. “No time for jokes, we’re going to make things right. Now transform!”

Marinette smiled nervously at Tikki and shouted “Tikki, spots on!”

At the same time in the locker room, Felix had managed to get Plagg out of the bracelet with some help from pepper and Camembert cheese. Knowing he had no time to waste, he quickly transformed into Chat Noir.

=^._.^= ∫

It wasn’t until late at night that everything went back to normal with a slight hiccup from the usual lucky charm item, Chat Noir’s antics and Rogercop firing his handcuffs all over the place.

=^._.^= ∫

The next day, the twins were seen together and with happy smiles on their faces as Adrien was allowed to go back to school after Gabriel received a call from the mayor telling him about where the bracelet was all along. All’s well that ends well as Roger got promoted to lieutenant and Nathaniel’s parents were coming over for dinner over the weekend.

#a03 fanfic #alternate universe #fanfiction.net #miraculos ladybug #twins #adrien x nathaniel #felix x marinette #Adrinath

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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

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Rain is a Chance to be Touched Ch.1

this arid world has turned my deep heart dry

This is the first chapter in my new ongoing hotchreid fic! Please click here for the fic summary, full tags, trigger warnings, more information etc.

Chapter Summary: follows S5E1 and Spencer's depression and disordered thinking is introduced.

TW: depression, disordered thinking, loneliness, the events of s5e1 (guns and knives)

Word Count: 3.4k

RCT Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

SPENCER

"She simply said this arid world has turned her deep heart dry, there was just one way she knew of to finally feel like she was free, and it was 1400 feet beneath the cold and stormy sea." — Erin Hanson

Spencer’s entire body feels heavy as he drags himself into work, and it’s not exactly a good sign when he can’t even find the energy to press the button for the right floor; he just stares pitifully at the array of numbers as if the elevator will read his mind and resolve the issue for him. Eventually, he brings himself to move his finger the short distance, cold metal colliding with cold flesh, and the doors shudder close, catapulting him up several storeys towards his fate.

Some might call the emotions Spencer’s experience typical burnout, far too common in the FBI and even more so in units that deal directly with horrific crime on the regular, but he knows it’s more than that. His entire life is operating in a minor key, he’s functioning entirely on auto-pilot, and chunks of his day are a blur, almost impossible to recall. He knows he’s depressed. Knowing such a fact, however, does little to cure the actual problem. He has no idea what to do with information like this except bottle it up and shove it as far down as possible while pretending as much as possible that absolutely everything is fine.

Emily and Derek are laughing about something as he approaches their group of desks. Only weeks ago he would’ve been crushed when they don’t so much as look over to say hello, but now he’s glad to not have to fake a smile, invent a story to tell about his weekend, pretend he’s not currently being held together with slowly peeling sellotape.

Instead, he focuses on feeling grateful that no one’s commented on him arriving a whole hour later than he used to as he unpacks his messenger bag. It’s not like it’s his fault he can’t pull his exhausted body out of bed in the morning, but since he��d rather not disclose such sorry information and finding an excuse is way too much effort, spending the morning in solitude seems the only option.

He doesn’t really understand how he’s gone from being a genuinely happy person, thick as thieves with everybody on the team, to this. It’s almost as though somebody’s cut the rope tying him to the others and now he’s drifting away, sinking without everyone else’s buoyancy to keep him afloat. He can see them all still tied together, barely seeming to notice their drowning team member, clearly not missing his presence.

This misery over his inevitable isolation, though, is his own fault: he can’t believe he let himself forget his place. He’s useful, good to keep around for his intelligence, his reading speed, his problem-solving skills, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Spencer is not friendship material. And he certainly isn’t relationship material.

The day starts off slow, everyone burying themselves in their paperwork, but Spencer finishes it far too quickly for it to really serve as much of a distraction. Depressingly, it’s still miles slower than he’s used to. Since his pile of consults seems too exhausting to even look at, he decides another coffee is very much in order.

“Hey, Spence,” JJ says happily as soon as he pushes his way into the breakroom. She’s leaning casually against the counter as she drinks her coffee, reading through what looks like case notes at the same time.

“Hi,” he says, trying for a smile but he knows there’s no way he could possibly match her relaxed grin. Instead of trying to converse, he just heads straight for the coffee machine, fixing his eyes on the steady stream of coffee pouring into his mug already piled high with sugar.

“You alright?” JJ asks, sounding a little suspicious. Not concerned, Spencer notes, just suspicious.

“Hmm?” He looks up and catches her eye before deciding he should probably answer verbally. “Yeah, yeah I’m good.”

“Are you sure? You’ve been acting a bit off the past few weeks.”

Spencer sighs. Maybe this is an opportunity to actually communicate his feelings. He doubts JJ will be able to help but really he’d just like a bit of comfort: he’s in so much pain that a hug would feel really nice right now. And besides Penelope, she’s probably the team member he’s most comfortable with. If he’s going to share with anybody, it should be JJ.

“I’ve been having a bit of a hard time, I guess,” he admits, looking up as his left-hand fidgets on the hot ceramic side of his coffee mug. He resents how vulnerable his voice sounds, he’s giving far too much of himself over to hands he’s not sure he can trust, but there’s nothing he can do about that now.

“Really?” JJ sounds surprised. Spencer recognises the tone as that of anyone who has a certain perspective on him realising that he also has feelings alongside his intelligence, and it hurts. “I’m sorry, Spence.”

Spencer just presses his lips into a thin line and nods awkwardly in thanks.

“I mean… at least you’re not going through what Hotch is,” she offers, completely unhelpfully. “He’s still trying to cope with his divorce and isn’t seeing Jack as much as he used to. Derek was almost killed by the Reaper just a few months ago, Emily only recently lost a childhood friend — I mean, the whole team has been through a lot. Keep your chin up.”

She smiles at him, patting him on the shoulder, before leaving the break room and heading back to her office, leaving Spencer standing in the middle of the room like an idiot. He wants to shout that he was literally poisoned with anthrax only a month ago, if they’re tallying bad things happening as a method of tracking who has the right to be miserable. The others might be going through a lot, that’s true, but it doesn’t lessen any of the pain thudding in his chest and stirring in his stomach.

As he walks back to his desk, he realises he’s learned one thing: opening up = not a good idea.

As completely fucking miserable as he might be, there’s exactly one person in this world who doesn’t deserve to be burdened with any of it, so he carefully tucks it away in his pockets and plasters on the mask he’d perfected so many years ago. It might be a little rusty, after all, it’s been little used in recent years, but it works just as well as it used to do when he pushes the door open to Penelope’s office.

“I bring blueberry muffins,” he says as cheerfully as he can muster, and something inside him does warm as Penelope’s face lights up, squealing a little as she reaches her arms out eagerly, making grabby hands at the paper bag he’s holding.

“Oh, you have no idea how much I love you,” she moans, keen to rip the bag open as he pulls up a chair next to hers.

“I think I do,” Spencer chuckles, and it’s one of the only genuine reactions he’s given in months, “mostly because you tell me every day.”

“Mm, that’s right,” she concedes through a mouthful of warm muffin, pointing a finger at his chest. “I love you even more than I love coding.”

“That’s a lot,” Spencer says, trying for serious but he can’t stop a fond smile slipping across his face.

Penelope swallows her rather large bite of blueberry muffin and passes him his one. “It is,” she says. “How are you, anyway? You look tired, poor baby.”

Spencer looks down for a moment, schooling his expression for a second before he forces himself to look back up at her. “Yeah, I didn’t… didn’t sleep well last night, I guess.” He tries for a reassuring smile but he knows it’s more of a grimace.

Penelope’s face immediately morphs into one of grave concern. Spencer knows that that’s just the way she is, melodrama and fierce protectiveness is virtually her brand at this point, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t any less agonising to see, or the anxiety of being found out any less paralysing. He decides not to give her any room to actually address it.

“I’ll be fine, Penelope, don’t worry,” he says, turning away to brush some muffin crumbs off the desk and into his hand, purely so he doesn’t have to attempt another pathetic smile. “A good night’s sleep tonight will fix me right up.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, still looking far too worried for Spencer’s liking.

“Of course, Pen.” He feels sick at lying to her, but he has no idea how to broach any of the tumultuous emotions raging inside of him, especially after JJ shut him down so brutally. “It’s only a bad nights’ sleep.”

He’s saved from her inevitable continued line of questioning by Emily poking her head round the door and asking for Spencer’s opinion on a consult.

While getting out of bed in the morning might be an almost impossible task at the moment, the idea of getting into it at night seems rather depressing, really. That’s probably the reason he’s still at the office, despite the time nearing 8 o’clock and exhaustion settling into every muscle fibre of his being. It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that it’s just a little more time in close proximity to one Aaron Hotchner.

Of course, he’d had to accept the fact that he was maybe, just a little bit in love with his boss a long time ago. He just refuses to admit that he’s this embarrassing about it. Perhaps staying late to spend more time with someone you like this much wouldn’t be so weird if there was a reasonable chance of conversation — if he ever even saw him — but there isn’t even that: Spencer sits and works quietly at his desk, Aaron sits and works quietly in his office.

Today, though, today his lingering finally pays off.

Aaron is on his way back from the photocopier when he stops by Spencer’s desk. He doesn’t see him coming, though, is the thing: he has no time to try and make himself look even a smidge less miserable or to school his surprised yet utterly lovesick expression.

“Won’t you want to be heading off soon, Reid?” he asks, clearly curious as to why Spencer remains at his desk when there’s no real work to be doing, but he cleverly paints it in a light-hearted tone. Even though Spencer is completely aware of what Aaron’s doing, he doesn’t feel attacked or under pressure.

“Oh,” Spencer says unintelligently, stammering a little as he scrambles desperately at a somewhat coherent reply, “yes, yeah, I’ll get going soon.” He doesn’t want to lie when he doesn’t have to, so he doesn’t try and offer an explanation for his staying late, and he knows Aaron won’t push. He manages an almost entirely genuine smile, though, which must count for something, even if it’s only because he’s hopelessly in love with the man leaning casually against his desk.

“Right then,” Aaron says, offering a small smile in response, letting his hard exterior drop in the nearly empty office, and even though it’s nothing special, not really, Spencer carefully files it away as his heart pitter-patters against his ribcage and his stomach pools with warmth. “See you tomorrow, Reid.”

Spencer just nods in response and gathers his things, placing them carefully in his messenger bag and shrugging his jacket on before walking out of the building. When he glances back, just as he pulls the glass door open, Aaron is watching him carefully. He doesn’t turn away but instead offers a small wave, which Spencer returns bashfully, blushing scarlet in the elevator and on the walk out of the HQ and during the whole trek down the street and sat on the metro train and on the final stretch home. He fumbles with his keys and curses himself for being so goddamn pathetic.

He doesn’t consider it for long, though, because he’s utterly exhausted and his tired bones collapse on the sofa, and who is he to try and get them to move again? Sleep is a mercy.

🌧

The case is gruelling and stressful enough without the endless and constant worry about where on earth Aaron is. He never turns his phone off and Spencer can’t think of a time he’s worked a case without him, not properly; he’s always the first one at the office, the first one on the plane, the first to jump out of bed towards the chance to make a real difference in the world. It’s so out of character for him and it’s utterly distressing.

Nevertheless, he focuses all his attention on the job; on protecting Jeffrey and Tom Barton, on bringing justice to the perpetrator when they inevitably find them. He offers lame and desperate excuses for Aaron not being there, all the while knowing full well that none of them are likely. Something is wrong and he’s powerless to help.

Emily tells him why. He sort of forgets how to breathe.

Getting shot in the leg while simultaneously petrified for the livelihood of the person you’re in love with is inconvenient at best when trying to talk down an unsub and protect a victim and eventually fatal at worst, but somehow he half-manages and Tom escapes unscathed, though he isn’t quite as lucky with the unsub.

That’s what matters, really, isn’t it? That others are safe, even if it means he’s in danger? After all, Tom Barton has lives to save and a son to raise, a wide social circle, and a loving family. What does Spencer have? No, it’s much better that he’s the one hurt than anyone else.

Of course, once the adrenaline of the situation starts to wear off and medics arrive on scene, he realises quite how badly he’s hurt. Already feeling woozy, energy seems to seep out of him as roaring, raging agony takes its place. It’s the first time he’s ever been shot and it’s worse than he could have imagined: no amount of studying literature and anecdotal evidence could prepare him for the feeling of a small metal ball tearing through the flesh and muscle and tendons — though, hopefully, and judging by the amount of blood he’s lost, no arteries or large blood vessels — of his thigh.

His team arrives, minus Emily and minus Hotch, and they’re concerned, of course they are. That is, until he presents them with someone they see as much more important, someone whose life is worth something, someone they care about deeply being hurt. And they leave.

He doesn’t get a chance to tell the medics that he doesn’t want narcotics, so the ride to the hospital is a blur of morphine and voices talking to him, though he can’t quite piece together what they’re saying. He wonders vaguely where everybody is, whether Hotch is alright, whether he’s about to die, but no real emotion is attached to any of these thoughts, they just… are.

He’s rushed into surgery almost immediately after he arrives at the hospital, and the next thing he’s aware of is a dull, ever-present, agonising ache in his upper thigh and exhaustion settled into his bones like his body is pain’s home, fatigue’s resting place. The last time he’d blinked himself awake in a hospital bed, blinding pain burning in one part of his body or another, Derek had been sat by his bed, eating jello.

There’s nobody by his bed this time.

A PCA pump is resting by his right hand but he doesn’t touch it. Clearly, nobody from his team has informed the hospital staff of his previous addiction; he doesn’t even know if they’re at the hospital; if they know what’s going on. The morphine he’s already had is going to be hard enough to deal with, he can feel the future cravings itching beneath his skin already, scarred-over track marks simmering away.

It’s over twenty-five minutes of lying helplessly on a hospital bed in a cool, impersonal room, feeling a certain kind of emptiness sitting in his stomach, before a nurse comes by. She looks pleased enough to see him awake, but he doesn’t care about her satisfaction, he cares about his team, about Penelope, about Aaron, and he’s too exhausted to do anything about it.

“Good, you’re awake,” she says cheerily and for once, he doesn’t try and conceal his despondency. It’s oddly freeing. “I’ll get the doctor to come and explain the situation.”

She bumbles out of the room, clearly not fazed by Spencer’s expression, so he resumes staring at the wall, allowing his thoughts to wander, still not managing to attach much emotion to them other than a miserable sort of emptiness.

The doctor is nice enough, making sure he understands his injury and the procedures he’s had done, as well as the recovery ahead of him, but he just can’t bring himself to care. It’s as though this is the last straw; this is the proof, the evidence to win the case he’s been fighting in the court of his mind. His team doesn't care. His life is worthless. He will always, always be alone.

JJ stops by briefly. This feels like it should be a consolation, but it isn’t. He learns of what’s happened to Aaron, what his family is going through, and suddenly he feels selfish: how dare he demand and crave attention when Aaron is far more hurt and injured than he is? When he’s far more important and far more deserving of the team’s attention? Self-loathing creeps up his throat and settles into grey cotton wool that won’t melt in his mouth.

Spencer doesn’t know how to react to the incredibly overwhelming events of the day, and JJ doesn’t seem to have time for this. “Right, Spencer,” she says, visibly impatient with his emotional floundering, his lack of verbal response, “I need to go. We need to sort this out for Hotch. We owe it to him.”

She leaves, and all Spencer can think is how much more worthless not being able to work on his case makes him. If he can’t even work to save the man he loves; if he can’t strive effortlessly to protect him and make him happy, then what is he doing here? Aaron will be furious when he finds out Spencer laid in bed lazily instead of diving headfirst into the case.

No. That’s not true. He’ll be sickeningly nice about it, while on the inside suppressing his disappointment, and Spencer will feel even more guilty, he’ll be even more irate with himself, and life will seem just a little bit bleaker.

He’s discharged a few days later, and nobody has visited, barring JJ’s fleeting, impatient stop by. He goes home in a taxi and struggles up the stairs on his crutches, almost glad he didn’t have many personal items at the hospital. Then again, that was because he was completely isolated. And if he did have people to bring him things in the hospital, then he’d probably have someone to help him up the stairs too.

It’s a moot point, really. He dives straight for the non-narcotic painkillers he’d been prescribed as soon as he sits down on his dusty couch in his messy apartment, desperate to relieve at least some of the agony throbbing in his leg still. Clearly, the universe decided he wasn’t in enough pain already; that the unrequited love and the growing depression and the recurring stomach cramps and clenches in his chest weren’t quite sufficient.

He knows the team is working flat out on the Foyet case. But even Penelope, who probably works the hardest of all of them, has had time to send him an encouraging text message promising to pop round as soon as she can. Other than that, his phone is dry and his heart slowly freezing over.

Truthfully, he’s not sure how much more of this he can stand. He’s feeling the same way he did as a child: isolated, othered, hurt, and utterly, utterly alone. When he’d joined the BAU and was welcomed immediately into the arms of a family, he promised himself he’d never feel like that again. He would never, ever allow himself to sink so low; not when he was surrounded by so many people who proved day in day out how much they loved him. Surely, feeling like this would simply be impossible.

For once, Doctor Spencer Reid is proved wrong. And it burns, festers, and screams like nothing else.

Chapter Two

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#hotchreid #criminal minds #cm #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #spencer reid #hurt spencer reid #spencer reid whump #aaron hotchner/spencer reid #aaron hotchner x spencer reid #spencer reid/aaron hotchner #hotch x reid #spencer reid x aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #my writing #RCT #RCT 1

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needsmoresleepwrites · 3 years

Text

Kageyama doesn't like a lot of things and right now he especially doesn't like Tsukishima (HQ Fluff Week, D2)

Of Bentos and Misunderstandings

Read on Ao3

Kageyama doesn't like a lot of things. Wrapping his fingers. Not being able to play volleyball. Finishing second, especially if Hinata is somehow involved. Not having all the data he needs to strategize a perfect game. Really the list is endless

But right now he especially doesn't like Tsukishima

He glares at his teammate, who is currently the cause of Hinata's distress (and therefore his because how are they supposed to play their best when Hinata is sighing so dramatically, Kageyama is surprised there's still any substance left in his lungs

He pauses. Actually, Hinata has more than enough air to exhale. But that's not the point!

The point is that these two idiots are having a spat. Over food because of course it would be. He doesn't understand it. If it was a volleyball concern, then yes, he'd even volunteer to solve the issue, be a mediator, even just give them the answer so they can move on, but something so mundane? It gives him a headache

Sugawara doubles over, "D-did YOU just call THEM idiots?! What is the world coming to?!"

"I think if you frown less," Nishinoya perks up, "the headaches will lesson. That's definitely not good for you!"

Tanaka nods, "Yeah, my sister's always complaining about that, not good for your skin either. You get older faster!"

Daichi sighs and looks to be praying.

Kageyama only grunts and continues to help the team clean up.

Yamaguchi comes over to them and scratches his cheek, "That...might be my fault actually..."

Sugawara looks intrigued and moves closer to them, "Wait...what happened?"

And somehow they start to bump shoulders and Kageyama just wants to go home but maybe he's also a little curious. But only a little. Plus, knowing what happened will mean they'll be able to resolve the issue faster. And it needs to be resolved now

Yamaguchi sighs, "Well...the truth is..." He looks over at their two middle blockers and winces at how the two continue cleaning up without looking at each other, "I've been meeting up with Tsukki the last few nights and-"

There's a collective gasp from their little group (sans Kageyama, who is confused)

Sugawara stage whispers, "You homewrecker!"

Nishinoya follows up with a whistle and, "All's fair in love and war, you go Yamaguchi!" He even pats his back and gives him a thumbs up

Azumane asks, "Wait, I don't think Hinata would jump to that conclusion, or overreact, Yamaguchi are you really...?"

Tanaka nods, "It happens all the time on TV, maybe there's some truth to it."

Yamaguchi blushes and shakes his head, nearly yelling, "No! It's not like that!! It's for practice, he's been helping me with my serves! Shimada has been really busy lately so I asked him for help."

Kageyama nods, but that doesn't explain why...

Daichi moves things along, "Ok, so what was the problem? Wasn't it about food?"

Sugawara is still giving Yamaguchi a look that Kageyama doesn't understand, his eyebrows twitching and he wonders if maybe his motor skills are malfunctioning

Yamaguchi sighs again, his features dropping, "Well, recently Hinata has been making Tsukishima bentos every day-"

Azumane smiles, "That's sweet of him."

Kageyama tilts his head, "He can cook?"

Daichi frowns, "I didn't think he could either, he seems like the type to get impatient."

Yamaguchi laughs, "Well, he wasn't at first but he's been getting better." He squeezes the handle of the broom he's holding, "But..."

"But..." The group echoes him (sans Kageyama who is once more confused. Why does he keep pausing? They need to hurry up)

"Well, since he's been staying late, my parents keep inviting him for dinner and you know how Tsukki is, he doesn't have a big appetite, so he hasn't been eating the bento and," he winces like he's remembering The Fight, "and Hinata just found out over the weekend."

The group is quiet as they look over once more at their two teammates, finally understanding the problem

Kageyama crosses his arms and thinks this "problem" is stupid. All because of Tsukishima's stupidly small stomach and why didn't he just tell Hinata to stop making him so much food?

----

They eventually finish cleaning up and Hinata is the first one out the door. Kageyama doesn't even chase after him because he's too busy staring (glaring) at Tsukishima

Tsukishima finally looks at him, a disgusted look on his face, "Can you stop looking at me, it's really creepy. If you have something to say just spit it out."

And so Kageyama does, "Make up with him."

He hears snorting and a quiet, "Doesn't beat around the bush, huh?" He thinks it was Nishinoya

Tsukishima rolls his eyes as he zips up his jacket and grabs his bag, "It's none of your business oh dear King."

Kageyama feels his jaw tick but he stays calm, "It is my business when Hinata can't concentrate during practice and you're at fault. He got caught up in the net three times!"

"And he walked into the pole twice," Nishinoya chimes in.

Tanaka laughs, "He was so out of it today! Reminded me of how he'd get sick when we first started playing matches!"

Tsukishima just frowns and mutters a whatever right before leaving the gym as well

Everyone follows after, Daichi locking up quickly, and they walk over to the bike rack where Hinata is waiting for them. His face is red and Kageyama frowns when he notices he's not wearing a hat or gloves. He's about to tell him that he needs to take better care of himself when someone covers his mouth and pulls him back a few steps. If he didn't have the balance that he does, he would have probably fallen

"WHA..."

Sugawara shushes him, "They're making up, quiet!"

Kageyama looks over at his two teammates and squints. How...?

"They are so cute," Azumane chuckles.

"Tsukki is really nice," Yamaguchi says matter of fact.

Daichi nervously laughs, "I don't know if that's the word I'd use..."

And again, Kageyama is confused.

----

Tsukishima walks over to Hinata and frowns, "Where's your hat? And scarf? Did you at least bring your gloves?!"

Hinata avoids his eye and blushes, "Uh...I...I forgot them."

Tsukishima frowns, realizing that this means Hinata biked to school with no protection from the winter air, "The weather is cold now, you could get-"

"I know!" Hinata yells out, wincing slightly at how loud that came out. Then more quietly, "I was just...distracted..."

They're quiet for a moment and then Tsukishima digs through his bag, taking out a pair of gloves, hat, and scarf. He moves closer to Hinata and then puts the hat on his head, pulling it down past his eyes. Hinata lets go of his bike's handles to grab at the hat and stop Tsukishima

"Hey! What are you doing?!"

Hinata manages to pull the hat on properly and Tsukishima is watching him, he's not smiling. Hinata hasn't seen a smirk on his face all day

"I am sorry I didn't tell you, and..." Tsukishima looks away, "the oden from last week was good. I had it for breakfast today...I am eating the food."

Tsukishima still has his hands on Hinata, on either side of his face, and he can feel the way Hinata's face wobbles.

"Kei," Hinata whispers. Tsukishima looks back at him, "I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have gotten mad. I mean, I wasn't even mad really!"

Tsukishima raises a brow, "Then why the silent treatment?"

Hinata blushes and Tsukishima likes the way the heat feels under his fingers, "I...I was embarrassed!"

----

OMAKE

The group finally splits and Hinata and Tsukishima are left alone to walk for a bit longer.

Hinata pipes up, "Why did you bring these if you already have yours?" He's pointing at his scarf and wiggling his fingers, now warmly ensconced in the thick winter gloves.

Tsukishima blushes slightly, "I always bring an extra...just in case you might need it..."

Hinata makes a noise, feeling a pleasant flush moving along his body, and calls for Tsukishima's attention, chanting, "Kiss! Kiss! Give me a kiiiiiis!"

----

A/N:

here is day 2 of hq fluff week! the prompts are:

- communication - hurt/comfort - "I always carry this because I know you'll need it."

not sure if i nailed the hurt/comfort?! i think it's more like off screen hurt and omake making up, and of course karasuno being "worried" for our duo

also, i keep imagining omake scenarios like

tsukishima kisses Hinata and grumbles that they should hurry, it’s getting late and Hinata still needs to bike all the way home and he better take a nice warm bath when he gets there. and don’t forget your stuff next time! Hinata watches him walking and then pulls his bike next to him, asks, Wait, where are your gloves? And Tsukishima gives him a look and Hinata realizes he’s wearing them so grabs Tsukishima’s hand and stuffs it in his pocket (and somehow, slowly and wobbly, keeps pushing his bike)

the next day, Hinata sneaks into Tsukishima’s class and checks if Tsukishima was serious about carrying extra items in his bag for him. He smiles when he sees two pairs of everything, even the gloves this time

at one point in time, Tsukishima is at the store. he decided to go with his brother. he didn’t really have a reason to go, he just figured they could hang out and Akiteru had made such a big deal about it, telling their parents loudly that they would be out. but now he’s looking at a pair of orange hats and scarves and he remembers that one time Hinata had forgotten to bring his scarf with him, how he’d stuffed his face into his jacket’s collar and Sugawara had laughed and asked if he was a turtle. he tries to find a matching pair of gloves but sees none, decides he’ll just find a pair later at a different store. Akiteru asks if his favorite color has changed or if he’s buying them because they match Karasuno’s colors and Tsukishima just says yeah, not elaborating

#tsukkihina #I write ff #fanfiction #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff week 2021 #established relationship #trouble in paradise #hqfluffweek2021 #karasuno being dorks #humor #fluff

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eternalgoldfish · 4 years

Text

Steve wakes in Billy’s bed.

Steve never wakes in Billy’s bed.

But the sun is shining, and Steve’s eyes are crusted with sleep, and Billy’s back is warm and solid where it’s pressed against his, their legs touching, Billy’s dorm-issued twin-sized bed hardly large enough for one full-grown man, let alone two. Steve doesn’t remember getting under the covers, or Billy wishing him goodnight.

But the sun is shining, and Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve rolled over an tucked an arm around his waist, pressed kisses into his neck. Steve wonders what Billy would do if Steve curled them together and called him baby.

They’re wearing underwear, so at some point, they got out of bed.

It’s not that Steve doesn’t remember anything. He remembers sitting in Billy’s car -- almost jerking off in Billy’s car. He remembers whining against Billy’s lips with Billy inside him -- Billy’s hot thighs between Steve’s legs, Billy’s fingernails digging into Steve’s hips.

He remembers falling on Billy, which. The universe couldn’t have let him get away with one bit of dignity in all that, huh?

Up until that point, he thought he’d been doing pretty fucking well, thank you very much.

Billy’d laughed and laughed, and pulled Steve on his side, and jerked Steve off until Steve was gasping and coming, toes curling, feeling drunk, and eager, and toomuchnotenoughpleasedon’tstop.

There’s just a gap in time there, clearly, because fucking into Billy’s fist doesn’t equate to waking up in his sheets.

So, Steve stays like that, back to back with Billy, wonders how much time he has until Billy wakes up, asks him to leave. Wonders how it could go if he pressed a kiss to Billy’s shoulder, danced his fingers over Billy’s arm hair, flicked his foot a certain way. Unlikely butterfly theory shit, and all that.

Then Billy fucking rolls over and wraps an arm around him, giving him a sleepy squeeze. “Dude, why’re you still here?” Billy asks.

And that’s a fucking mixed signal, Jesus Christ. But Steve has been thinking exactly the same thing, so, “If you didn’t want me to stay--”

“What?” Billy lets go of him and sits up, rubbing his hands over his face. His bun is a lop-sided disaster, but the pendent resting against his chest is gold. “It’s Friday,” he says. “You have economics at ten, or whatever, don’t you?”

And Steve does, but.

“Fuck,” Steve gets out of bed and scrabbles for his phone in his jeans, says, “Fuck,” because it’s nine forty-two.

“Bye?” Billy offers.

“Fuck.”

---

Steve’s skipped classes before, but the thing is, his mom has been wild lately about his grades, and he’s kind of bombing economics, so it’s kind of fucking important that he gets there on time, and that he actually fucking listens and takes notes, and behaves.

He’s five minutes late, but he gets there, which is kind of the point.

Not that his mind is on economics.

He’s too hung over, too weirdly wired. There’s something under his skin that he can’t itch, and for once it’s not his dick chubbing up in his jeans because Billy is sending him nudes before lunchtime.

(Although his phone does keep lighting up, so.)

(He thinks it’s maybe his heart chubbing up, and that’s definitely not good for his cholesterol, or the sticky notes left on Billy’s door, or what he’s supposed to tell his parents when they ask about his love life at Christmas.)

When he checks his phone, there are no nudes, just two texts that say,

found ur thong princess

goin 2 jerk off w it

And Steve has no fucking clue what he could have even left at Billy’s, but it definitely wasn’t a thong. He actually doesn’t even think it’s anything, just another one of Billy’s weird ways of making him fuck up in class, but it still twists something in Steve’s chest, something weird-bad. Like thinking about Billy’s other guys when they fuck -- and other girls, apparently, girls who wear thongs, so.

Steve texts back, Not mine, sorry, must be your mom’s.

Billy doesn’t text back a long while, so like, maybe he’s blown his load, or maybe he just thinks Steve is boring for not playing along. Whatever. Steve has like, actual things he needs to be doing.

But with half an hour left in class, Steve’s phone finally lights up, like, My mom left when I was ten.

And well. What? What? Steve didn’t know that, doesn’t even know how Billy feels about that, like, if he’s angry, or upset, or fucking like, anything. He tries to scroll up through their conversations looking for an answer, but he’s coming up with nothing, just raunchy one-liners and sweaty dick picks. Billy’s barbed wire and crucifix, sandy skin, golden hair.

He doesn’t know a fucking thing about Billy.

How Billy’s dick tastes doesn’t count.

---

Steve doesn’t know what to say, so he just doesn’t. Like a fucking coward. He slinks to the library after class like maybe things’ll just work out if he lets them cook for a while. Like maybe all the weirdness from this morning will gloss over if he pretends it didn’t happen.

No cigar.

Billy flops into the chair across the table from him like this is nothing, normal, and Steve guesses it is, because they do study together, sometimes, but not together-together, so. Billy’s not even taking out his books, just tipping his head slightly and running his tongue over his teeth.

“Sorry?” Steve offers, like a moron.

Billy scrunches up his nose. “Sorry for what?”

And Steve doesn’t really know, so.

After a pause, Billy huffs and pushes back his hair. He’s got tacky diamond studs in his ears, the kind that make Steve want to tug on them with his teeth, see what they’re really made out of. Billy crosses his arms, says, “Guess I didn’t tell you about my fucked up family, then?” and they might as well be in the fucking Twilight Zone.

“No, uh,” Steve clears his throat, winces slightly. “We haven’t really had time?” Between all fucking. Yikes.

“Well,” Billy sneers, like, “My mom flaked, my dad is an abusive asshole, my step-mom might as well be a cardboard cut-out of a human, and my step-sister is a huge fucking bitch. I don’t want to talk about it.”

The thing is, in person, Steve can’t just leave Billy on read when he doesn’t know what the fuck to say, so he’s stuck just kind of staring, mouth partly open, running through all the whats and whys and hows. Processing months knowing Billy, fucking Billy after a party, waking up in Billy’s arms, and now whatever the fuck this is.

“You know what, fuck this.”

“Wait--” Steve snaps his books shut as Billy gets to his feet. “Sorry? Just. Sorry, I guess. Fuck. I just didn’t know what to say to that earlier, you know? A thong? That text might not have even been for me.”

“Who else could it have fucking been for?”

“I don’t know? Someone else you’re--”

Billy laughs, kind of mean. “I’m not hooking up with anyone else, you idiot. What was it you said, I ‘haven’t really had time’? I could have had anyone I wanted at that party.”

And Steve knows that, even though Billy is contradicting himself. Knowing it’s not making it any fucking better. Kind of just makes Steve want to die.

“But you wanted to fuck me.”

“Yeah, I wanted to fuck you.”

They’re talking way too loud for being in the quiet study zone.

“Do you want to fuck me right now?”

“I kind of want to punch your face in.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. “Cool, so we’re just back in fucking September again.”

Billy snatches his keys from where he threw them on the table and grabs his bag from the floor. “Shut the fuck up, come on.”

But Billy doesn’t punch him when they get outside the building, like he might have in September. He crowds Steve up against the wall, pushes Steve’s shoulders until his head hits brick. With the way the stairs jut out, there is just enough space between them and the hedges that they probably won’t get seen, and Steve’s worried about no one finding his corpse for about five seconds before Billy’s lips are on his, kisses all clicking teeth and fingers digging into his sweater.

It should make him angry.

It’s kind of erotic.

(It’s kind of confusing, but Billy’s slipping his hand into his sweatpants, and they’re kind of in public, and Steve really doesn’t need a criminal history, but)

He bucks against Billy’s palm, wants his hands on Billy’s skin. Wants to think this is maybe a solution, with Billy’s teeth grazing over his neck, Billy laughing softly in his ear.

“You like to get off in public?” he asks, and Steve is pretty positive he’s shut that down about a million times, but Billy’s kissing him in earnest, playing with his cock, and well.

Steve can’t exactly hide how fucking hard he is when things are already this far gone.

“You got something to say to me, Pretty Boy?”

Steve tugs on Billy’s hair. “Like what?”

“A sorry, maybe, since I’m being so forgiving.”

“I said sorry,” but it’s shaky, kind of airy. “If the campus police--”

“Guess you better be quick, then.”

And Billy is confusing, disgusting, infuriating, gorgeous, and Steve is a complete dumbass, so he whines, “C’mon, I’ll blow you in my room--” which absolutely does not work.

“Or you could blow me here.”

Which Steve is definitely not going to do, but the idea makes his breath catch, has him moaning softly as Billy tugs on his bottom lip. Faintly, he realizes he had more resolve when he was drunk than he does now, and that’s not something he really wants to investigate, not when he’s unzipping Billy’s jeans and jerking Billy in return, heart thumping and skin tingling each time the library door opens and slams shut.

Billy’s teeth are on his cheek, breathing hot in his ear, murmuring, “Someone is going to hear you,” like Billy isn’t also making noise with every breath, fucking into Steve’s hand like they’re on a clock. Like he’s trying to get Steve’s hand fucking pregnant.

“Sorry,” Steve says, mostly a gasp. “Sorry, sorry.”

Meaningless. Billy doesn’t need it, can’t with how smug he is when Steve comes first, with how he almost breaks their cover laughing when he wipes Steve’s come on the inside of Steve’s sweatpants. He comes with his nose in Steve’s neck, hands gripping Steve’s hips, and it’s.

Well, it’s kind of mortifying.

But Billy is laughing again, knocking away Steve’s hand so he can fix himself back in his jeans, and Steve should be angry, but.

“What was that about blowing me on your rich boy sheets?” Billy asks.

They have to change their pants now anyway.

#harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things #fanfiction #stranger things fanficton #my fic #does anyone even remember that i WRITE THESE i am sorry

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sonicringnoise · 3 years

Text

Have a Jak 3 rant

Okay, I need to talk about Jak 3 and just...how absolutely janky the plot is.

This rant is extremely long, so I put it under the cut.

First of all, I just want to point out, I love this game. I love it so much, and it’s my favorite out of the trilogy. But it just...it could have been so much better, guh.

And I know that development of this game was rushed (hell, it only came out a year after Jak 2), but I’m still going to rant about it!

It starts out just fine, with the Wasteland and Spargus and the arena, but it gets so weird as it goes on. Just...really disjointed.

We never really find out why Jak keeps going after eco crystals. Seriously, he gets a dark eco crystal from the Dark Maker at the beginning of the game, a light eco crystal from Seem, and just...starts collecting them, for some reason? Like, was he going to make a necklace? Start a rock collection? It’s never explained.

But whatever, it turns out those are needed later in the game to save the world. Fine.

After some Spargus-y missions, we then go...to the Monk Temple. You know, the temple. That’s never been mentioned before, and we didn’t even know existed, but we just went up there to explore and stuff and...

Like, how hard would it have been to have a line where Seem says, “We monks live far to the north, in a temple in the mountains.”

Then we’d at least have a reason to go there. But no, instead we just show up there and start poking around.

This is one of my biggest issues with the game. In Jak 2, there are cutscenes that set up these missions, or even communications in gameplay that tell us where to go. In Jak 3, there’s just...a lot of that missing.

But, fine. Whatever, Jak has, like, ESPN or something.

At the volcano, Jak gets a dark power of invisibility, I guess. But only when he touches certain statues, and it’s only ever really used to get past a few traps and then never again.

Oddly enough, this was something that...made sense? I mean, invisibility is actually a power that dark eco has. Remember in Jak 2, there were metal heads who could turn invisible.

But it’s never used! And that complaint holds true for almost every power Jak gets. You basically use the powers when a prompt comes on screen to get through a one-time obstacle, and then never again.

Then we find out Veger is talking to the monks, but no one ever really expands on why? Or how? Like, for a city hidden in the Wasteland and forgotten, a lot of fucking people know it exists!

Speaking of which...

We meet Ashelin in the desert and she begs us to come back to Haven City. Jak asks her how she knows Damas and she answers, “It doesn’t matter now.”

Excuse me??

It totally does matter! If Ashelin knows Damas, it begs the question: does she know that Jak is his son? Does she know the Kid is his son? Does she even know about the Kid?

I mean, Ashelin would almost have to know that Jak is Damas’ son: during this scene, she gives him his seal back and says, “Don’t you remember who you are?”

Whatever. Add that to the list of things that are never mentioned again.

Jak says he’s not coming back to the city, because he’s an angry teenager and he likes hanging around with his Sand Dad.

This is immediately followed by Jak returning to Haven City.

We head to the Monk Temple, again for no reason. This time, we open up some doors and Pecker leads us back to the city.

There is no explanation as to why Jak has a change of heart. I actually think that the scene where Damas and Jak had a heart-to-heart and he mentions his lost son should be here: it leads perfectly into Jak deciding that the Greater Good is more important than his feelings.

Instead, we get nothing. Nada. Zilch. Just Jak heading back to Haven City because it’s The Thing To Do.

We reach Haven City after a boss battle and meet with Samos and Keira. Samos sucks, but that’s in character. Keira has no lines in this scene, and only makes goofy faces. Seriously, look:

That’s it, that’s the character.

Like, what’s happening in this scene? What’s going on with you, Keira? Are you okay? Are you making bedroom eyes at Jak? Are you confused? Did you smoke some of your father’s funny herbs again?

(Again, I know Keira’s role got cut down a lot because they changed voice actors, but it’s...so...jarring for a normally prominent character to suddenly get shoved into the background.)

We do some missions for Torn and eventually find out that Erol is the bad guy. Never explained how Erol survived slamming his Zoomer into dark eco and exploding in front of a huge crowd, but at this point, it’s whatever.

We continue on our journey: Tess is a furry, Samos is useless, Torn is...Torn.

We get a scene with Sig where Jak and Daxter ask him about Damas and his job as a spy and all that stuff. Fine, well and good, except the following exchange happens:

Jak: You’re playing with people’s lives!

Sig: Why not? They played with mine.

I’m sorry??

There’s a story there, and I’d like to know! What the hell happened to Sig? Why is nothing ever explained??!!

We get some Dadmas feelings, then we head over to have a chat with Kleiver. And this happens:

Jak: Kleiver, I need to find some very special Precursor artifacts, but I’m running out of time.

...Are you?? Has that been established?

So, in one of the previous missions, Samos mentions over the communicator (during gameplay, not in a cutscene) that to activate some ruins in Haven Forest, you’ll need some artifacts. But all he says is this:

Samos: Mar wrote that there was some ancient ruins to the west that were activated by five special artifacts and revealed wondrous truths. I'll see what I can find out.

That’s it! There’s never a cutscene where Samos says you need to find the Holo Cube, the Quantum Reflector, the Beam Generator, the Prism, and...by the way, there is no 5th artifact. Samos, you’re full of shit.

(Unless the Eco Sphere you get from Seem towards the end counts, but it’s very unclear.)

And, by the way, I had to Google those artifact names. The artifacts are never actually named until you acquired them in-game. Jak just finds random artifacts and is like, “Welp, this’ll do it! How convenient!”

Sigh.

Once we get all these artifacts no one told us about, we’re told to go take a cab down to the center of the earth. We don’t do that, and instead blow some shit up to visit our friends in person again.

(Quarantine mood, really.)

And, again, I can’t get over how much of a non-character Keira is. Seriously, she just stands there and claps like a 3-year-old.

And we also come to my own personal pet peeve: the scene where Ashelin strips Veger of his title.

I can’t with this shit.

The biggest issue I have with this game, from a story standpoint, is how quickly the inciting incident is resolved. Like, Jak being banished is the whole reason we have a Jak 3. The city turned against him; his anti-hero choices in Jak 2 led to him being blamed for the war in Jak 3. It made sense.

But Ashelin decides, 75% through the game, to just be like, “Naw, Veger, fuck you. Get out of my face, buh bye.”

It just pisses me off, because if Ashelin had that power, why didn’t she use it before Jak was banished??

And why is Jak okay with this? Why is Moody McAngerface not even a little annoyed that she didn’t care enough to do this when he was dying of heatstroke in the desert?

Uuuuuuggggghhhhh guys I don’t understand.

So we see Vin again, blow some more stuff up, fight Erol, and get some tentacle wings. Seem acts all nice to us and gives us a present we didn’t know we needed. More Dadmas ensues, we see the Dark Maker ship for some reason, blow even more stuff up.

Finally, it’s time to head to the catacombs. We get into some trouble with Dark Makers (even though there’s only, like, three of them), and Damas busts through the goddamn wall in a car.

No idea how he got here, considering the Wasteland appears to be an island, but whatever, it’s a badass scene.

Then, because Jak can’t have anything nice, they get hit and crash the car all over Damas’ legs.

Seriously, dude, I get that you might be dying from blood loss, but why are you coughing, your lungs are fine.

So Damas dies, Jak is his long-lost son, it’s very sad, and Veger you piece of shit.

I will forever be salty that Veger, who was an overall excellent villain, was sidelined for Erol of all people. Admittedly, Jak 2 did the same thing with Praxis, but Kor was a much better Big Bad than Erol.

Regardless, we then get the Worst Plot Twist Ever, when we find out the Precursors are ottsels.

Moving on from that tragedy, we then get to fight Erol. The fight sucks, it’s boring and I hate driving the stupid Wasteland buggies.

And then the end comes, and my blood pressure skyrockets. Somewhere, my PCP senses a disturbance.

The Precursors being ottsels is stupid, but Jak telling them to call him “Mar” is even stupider. First of all, Jak does not seem like the kind of person to get sentimental over his birth name. It’s weird, and I don’t like it.

Second of all, the ottsel leader calls him Mar once, directly after that. And then never again.

Seriously, 90 seconds after Jak says he wants to be known as Mar, this happens:

I’m sorry, what’s that?

Why would you add that line in about Jak wanting to be called by his birth name, and then ignore it a minute and half later??!!

It just infuriates me. There’s a lot of stuff in Jak 3 that does this: it’s touched on once, then it’s gone forever.

And let’s talk about Daxter’s wish. I actually find this particular decision - where Daxter chooses to wish for pants instead of being human again - totally believable.

Despite how much Daxter is regarded as the comic relief idiot of the duo, he’s actually shown to be pretty sharp. He’s definitely observant. And at this point, remember that he’s already seen the Precursors at work: he saw them turn Veger into an ottsel.

So Daxter probably realized that these guys were on some monkey paw, be-careful-what-you-wish-for bullshit and decided to wish for the most innocuous thing he could. Who knows what would happen if he actually asked to become human again? Might come out lookin’ like Samos.

And he’s right, by the way! Look at what those assholes did to my baby Tess. They could’ve just got her a size 6 pair of Levi’s and been like, “Here, boom, pants.”

But nooo, they turned her into an ottsel, too, because why not why the fuck not nothing matters ahhhhHHHHHHHHH

...

Anyway, like I said, Jak 3 is my favorite in the series. It had such potential. It’s like a puzzle that’s missing pieces. I like it more for what it could have been, rather than the absolute mess it actually is.

#jak and daxter #rant #jak 3 #i shouldn't be allowed to talk about video games #but it's just such bullshit

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atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

frENEMIES, pt. 3 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Locked in the supply closet together, the pair actually manages to resolve some of their issues but new ones arise when they realize the other side of hate is love and while one is willing to accept to cross the fine line, the other one will run scared.

Warnings: angst, swearing, panic attack, sexual innuendos and talk of sex

Part 1 Part 2

"Just stay with me tonight. Okay?" Grayson takes her hand, gingerly pulling her closer and while he wishes he could ignore the turmoil in her eyes, the hesitation in every inch of distance she closed between them, he can't help but wonder if she'll ever stop hating him.

After the past 24 hours they had, he hoped she would find a way. He just wants a chance, a fighting chance to show her he isn't the idiot, dumb jock she sees him as. He can't exactly deny the playboy accusation, but the rest of it wasn't very fair to him. At least he saw it like that.

"I feel like this is a slippery slope. I stay tonight and we...what? Have sex? Maybe just cuddle? Or talk? Next thing I know, you'll catch feelings and I don't really see how that would be good for either of us." Biting her lower lip, she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, not in a violent or sexual way, just as a way to ground herself, to find a footing in the insanity of her actually considering willingly being around the man she hated for years. And her hate wasn't unfounded.

"Don't worry, my sneaky little princess. That's not going to happen. At least not to me, but I can't promise anything on your behalf. I'm quite the charmer, ya know?" Chuckling as she pushed him back with all her might, Grayson lands on the bed with a throaty laugh she found quite pleasant. However, when Grayson told her nothing of the sort would happen, he forgot to mention it's because it's too late, at least for him it is - he already caught feelings.

How this came to be, you may ask? Last time we left these two, love was the last thing on their mind...at least for Y/N.

Well, it all started with a push from a very bald Ethan who decided to lock the frENEMIES in a room.

"Seriously?!" Y/N pounded on the door as she realized she's stuck and the only reason why that happened is because she wanted to make amends with Ethan and Amina. That's what happens when you're trying to be nice.

Ever had a big fight with your best friend and actually have them be right but you just won't admit it? Y/N sure as hell found herself in a lot of trouble with her best friend when Ethan got caught in the crossfire and while she apologized to Ethan, profusely, Amina was just done with her. It hurt when she chose to side against her even before the incident that left her boyfriend without hair. Isn't your best friend supposed to have your back?

Ethan forgave her, or so she thought before he gave her and Grayson a push before locking them up in the supply room on campus and while Y/N pounded on the door, she realized she was doing that all on her own. She figured the ostentatious, loud quarterback would be breaking the door down by now and yet she found no resistance on his behalf...just silence.

Frowning, she turned to the unusually quiet Grayson only to find him in the corner of the room, eyes wide open, heaving.

"Dude, you good?" She really didn't want to come closer and check but when he shook his head no, she felt her heart start pounding. The last thing she needed is him having an asthma attack now, because he might think she didn’t notice, but she saw him hiding the inhaler in his bag after taking a few puffs and while she didn’t understand why he’s ashamed of that, she didn’t say anything. Just as he’s hiding his dyslexia, something she didn’t know about until the dinner they were forced to have and he stared at the menu as if it was in a foreign language before asking his brother in their ridiculous twin language what to order.

"Why? What's happening right now?" Carefully, she approached him because he seemed freaked out as it is and she had no idea how he might react to her in this moment.

"Not a fan...of closed spaces." Managing to explain through a few quick breaths, he had closed his arms around his folded knees and for the first time in forever, she saw Grayson fucking Dolan isn't invincible. She’s become all too aware of that.

"Oh." She let nothing else pass her lips as she sat right before him, chewing her bottom lip with her eyebrows furrowed and her nose crinkled as she pondered what she could do to help him. If a man as big as him freaks out in such a small room, she might not be quite safe. Would he ever hurt her?

"Why is football so important to you?" And that's when she spoke up, this time with a question she hoped would help keep his mind occupied, derailing the possible panic attack he seems to be facing. She knew all about panic attacks for they've tormented her since she was eighteen. She knew he feels vulnerable and terrified and she wanted to give him a chance to talk about what he loves, is confident in and is also passionately involved in. It’s not something she talks about, just as he doesn’t talk about his asthma and dyslexia.

"Huh?" Grayson looks at her, his lips quivering, his chest hurting and his heart hammering against his cheat and he couldn't believe he was breaking in front of the girl that hates him more than anyone ever has and he could already see her using this against him.

"Tell me. I want to understand." But there is no malice in her voice and the way she looks at him is...merciful. She's never been this nice to him and for a moment, he can't help but wonder why. Why would she care?

"Please." The softness in her tone is enough to make him trust her. Maybe it's because he wanted to trust her with all his heart regardless, but he found himself speaking to her about what he never talked about to any girl...only to very few people in his life that mostly included his family.

"My dad. It was sort of our thing. He was the most supportive...It....Playing football makes me feel closer to him. I guess I just want to make him proud. Besides, I love the attention. I do. I love when they cheer for me, when they pat me on the back after a win and most of all, I love how powerful I feel on the field." Rubbing his chin absentmindedly, he flashed her a smile, the cocky one she usually saw on his face and it lifted a weight off her chest she felt ever since she saw the great quarterback cradling himself in a state of sheer panic.

It almost breaks her heart to see him that way, because having your mind and body betray you like that is an indescribable feeling to know you can't trust yourself anymore. Despite all the voices in he read screaming at her not to, she reaches out, placing her hand over his so tenderly he thought he imagined her touch.

"Awe, you actually care!" Grayson cooed teasingly and she rolls her eyes, scooting away from him a little, taking her hand with her.

"Bite me, quarterback." And while they were definitely having a moment, he couldn't help but wonder if he could use this time to learn why she really hates him.

"Ooh, kinky! Where?" Winking at her, Grayson purses his lips and her exasperation is evident but he can't let her leave without at least some truth being revealed.

"So, I have a question." He says with a small smile and she raises an eyebrow at him, her left eye narrowing ever so slightly at him.

"I don't care." Sassing back, she turns her body away from him, trying to hide from his over-analyzing stare. His eyes, the way he looks at her always makes her feel naked. It's intense and it's unveiling and frustration and she didn't want any of it right now. She’s always had trouble with emotional connections and anyone getting too close made her nervous and Grayson particularly made her want to run away screaming.

"You asked one question, I get to ask one too. So...why do you hate me? I mean, I can't even understand what I did to you that's so bad...except for the eyebrows sophomore year BUT it was an accident and I apologized to you at least a hundred times." Looking over at him, her glare is clearly showing his jokes are not entertaining and she's had enough but if it means he'll shut up, she'll tell him.

"You stole my first kiss without even asking me the first time we met." She states through gritted teeth and the horror and confusion on his face is baffling to her. "Don't pretend otherwise. We were talking and I actually liked you before you thought it would be okay to just kiss me out of the blue before running off to puke in the bathroom."

"I SWEAR I", he was going to say he doesn't remember but it all sounded too familiar and he...well, he thought he dreamt that.

"Oh, God! I'm sorry! I was drunk off my ass that night and it was the first and last time I got drunk. I swear I thought I dreamed it. I really am an asshole." Running his hands through his luscious locks, Grayson hid his face as he wondered how the fuck did he forget about kissing Y/N fucking Y/L/N.

"Then there's the time you told Mike I was a snake and to stay away from me." She continues but he was shocked there's more than one reason and while he does remember doing this, she took it out of context.

"You got that all wrong. Mike was bragging around, saying he banged you and I was telling him he's a snake and I'd break his jaw if he keeps talking shit about you. He wasn't the guy for you. He just wasn't and I'm not sorry for that. I just wish you talked to me before assuming the worst of me." Leaning back against the wall, Grayson held her gaze fiercely. This was no time for weakness, he had to be brave and face her and make things better. It's been years and he...well, he's always had a thing for her.

One night stands were fun, but no girl ever challenged him nor intrigued him like her. She was so unapologetically herself, so beautiful even without trying and her mind works in such interesting ways that he was always in awe of her opinions, of her writing, of the way she sees the world.

"Alright...then how about when you conditioned the university to take Ethan on a full football scholarship or you wouldn't be going here? Did you ever wonder who you cost their lifelong dream? Because I know the guy who lost his spot and now he works at a gas station. And he deserved a lot better."

That was unexpected to say the least. If he were completely honest, it never crossed his mind someone might get cut when he insisted Ethan be accepted with him. Mostly because it was the only way for them to stay together and to be close to their dad in his final years.

"I didn't. I didn't think, I just felt. And it was wrong. I know that. But it also gave me and my brother a few more years with our dad and I'm sorry your friend got screwed over but I can't be sorry about why I did it. Just that I did it." Swallowing thickly, he watched her nibble on the lower left corner of her lips, her eyes falling to the ground and he could see the wheels in her head turning. She's overthinking, probably conflicted with what he told her and while it's not right, he knows she understands it.

"There were a bunch of pranks there as well, but these were the major reasons." She finishes, her eyes still fixed on the floor, unblinking and with a deep breath, Grayson moved closer to her.

"I'm really fucking sorry for hurting you, but I never meant to do any of those things. I just want to be your friend."

Chuckling, she finally blinks and looks up at him with more light in her eyes than he ever saw her looks at anyone but Amina with.

"Riight."

"I won't lie, I'm attracted to you, but I'd settle for friendship for now." Risking it, he places a hand on her back, craning his neck so he'd be in her line of sight for she turned her head away from him as soon as he started speaking, but she didn't fight his touch and that was encouraging enough.

"How about we make a little bet? Start this friendship right? Like...come to my next game and if we win, I get to ask anything of you. If we lose, you can ask me never to talk to you and I'll oblige. Is that good?" Expecting her to refuse, drowning in all the things he wants to tell her but he can't not yet.

He can't tell her he saw how her style evolved from wearing all black to actually having a colorful wardrobe. He saw the ring she ways wears on her right index finger and how she twirls it nervously before every exam or how she hates high heels but would still wear them to parties only to take them off an hour in. He saw how she struggled with her back in the second semester of freshman year, right after she fell on ice on the first day after the holidays. He knows she can't take a compliment but appreciates them, how she gets so involved with every book she reads that she makes the most beautiful faces when something interesting happens - she laughs, she cries, she loves the characters and after every book, it takes her a few days to remind herself it's all fictional, to say goodbye before finding a new book to obsess about. He also knows she has a waterfall as the background on her phone and that she wants nothing more than to visit Bali and Australia. He knows so much, yet so little and a from just observing her when she thought no one cared.

Grayson cared and he still does. He can't imagine a day he doesn't.

"Sure. Why not."

And as she agreed, the door opened and there was nothing better than the fresh air in their lungs after being stuck in there for what felt like forever.

However, Grayson won that game the next day and Y/N found herself actually cheering him on from the stands. It was definitely a new experience, but she didn't care. She didn't want to hate him anymore. It's exhausting to hate a guy who seems to be so painfully human that it's inspiring. There's nothing wrong in being human, in making mistakes and she decided to let go of his. As hard as it is, she had to. She couldn’t hate him forever, not when she knew his reasons and when she knows her friend had other choices and he gambled them all on his own.

"You really asked me to come to your room like that's not weird at all." She folds her arms over her chest and she can't help but be surprised with how tidy it is or the smell of wildflowers that fills her nostrils, she actually never imagined this is how his room would be. And she definitely didn't expect a keyboard in his room. He was full of surprises, the good kind.

"Seriously, what exactly am I doing here, quarterback? Expecting to get lucky?" She couldn't shake it though, that annoying feeling it was more than she could imagine. The way he is around her is just...disarming and equally alarming. She can't get too close. She just can't love him. Grayson Dolan is a womanizer and she'd be damned if she gives a man like him her heart.

She’s never loved anyone and she didn’t want her first love to be a guaranteed heartbreak. She wasn’t a part of the hookup culture, she didn’t know how to function in that world and she refused to learn. And while Grayson might have good intentions, he’d be onto the next one in the month. It’s all fun and games when they’re just flirting and annoying each other, but to actually involve her heart? It terrified her, pushed her body on an invisible ledge she didn’t want to jump from.

"Do you really think I brought you here for sex? I mean...I don't want to be presumptuous, but why would you come here if you think that's the reason why? Do you want to have sex?" Sitting up with the notion that this is a more serious conversation, Grayson quickly took a look at her and she was fidgeting, nervous as if...as if she never had sex.

"No. I just...I don't know, I'm not exactly the type that does this." Raising both his eyebrows, he realized he is right. His little devil is actually an angel. A fallen angel like Lucifer, but an angel nonetheless.

"I didn't bring you here for sex. I just wanted us to talk and...actually sleep next to each other. I can sleep on the floor if you want me to." As sweet as it is, she still couldn't relax. A man like him didn't seem quite content with nothing happening and she...well, she never slept next to a man before let alone more.

Overthinking took over and she found it harder and harder to breathe as her heart picked up speed and the possible outcomes of this night started to freak her out to the point of losing focus, losing touch with reality. The world felt like it moved too fast, her brain couldn’t fully comprehend anything around her. She found herself back in the black pit where a panic attack was preying on her like vultures pray on those lost in the desert.

"Y/N...are you...are you scared of me?" His voice breaks as reality sets in and he can tell she's shivering, her arms wrapped around her as she glances at the door every few seconds. But he had no expectations of that night but a long talk and getting to know her better. He just wanted to show her who he is, but she didn't seem to believe that.

"Look, I'm not like you. I didn't sleep around. I had my first kiss in college with you and I tried dating a few guys after who somehow all ghosted me once they started hanging with you and I'm guessing they were a versions of Mike so thank you, but I never had sex, I've never even held hands with a boy before! I can't do this. I just can't." And before he had a chance to react, she was gone. His beautiful mischievous girl ran from him and this time it wasn't because she hated him, but because she realized she might actually care for him.

Tags: @mendesficsxbombay @beinscorpio @peacedolantwins @dolandolll

PART 4

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction #grayson dolan fluff #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan quarterback

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